I decided to swim in a shorty wetsuit without sleeves today. More accurately, this morning as I left the house in warm air, casting my full wetsuit to one side with gay abandon. Only this evening as I left work in a stiff breeze and pouring rain did I question my decision.
Still, the whole point was to adapt to mountain lake temperature and get my distance in where possible. At least the lake will be warm.
It was. 20 degrees warm but I carefully folded my dryrobe on the shore to keep the towelling dry then shivered my way into the water, chatting to a friend as I went.
I had to make my excuses and set off for I knew my time was limited by my body's tendency to lose core heat.
A brief stop on the first lap might have jeopardised my distance swim but it was worth it to spend time in the water metres from the crested grebe I have never seen there before.
Lap 1 still dispensed with on time and I started lap 2 confidently but my technique started to fade, cramp sneaked under my chin and I started to shiver again. Oh well.
I kept going to the end of my loop, resisting the urge to take the short cut. Sure I was panicked because I was running out of energy but I wasn't going to shorten my short option. No way!
Needless to say, I survived. I wasn't shivering too badly when I got out and the dry robe put paid to much more discomfort.
Maybe I didn't do my distance but the adaptation to the cold felt much *much* more important.
I am looking forward to stretching it next time I swim.
Showing posts with label Swimming. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Swimming. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 11, 2017
Wednesday, October 12, 2016
A beautiful point
A ballet teacher once said I had a "Beautiful point" (toes). In theory, this should make me an excellent swimmer. So I am focusing on pointing my toes when I kick.
The first four laps of kick practice today were tedious as last week but were around 15 seconds faster so yay for progress. I did them earlier this time so that I could get another set in later.
They tired me out so much that I decided not to do too much more, maybe just two more lengths.
This time I set off at a right pelt! It went really well but I burned out by the time I got to the middle of the length. Perhaps this is the problem. My kick is "ok" but just not sustainable. It's pretty much the problem with my whole swimming at the moment.
So I did some froggy-legs and then kicked the rest of the length and did the same on the return trip. This seemed to go much better for me and during the times I was actually kicking, I was less depressingly slow.
So it gives me something to look forwards to next time.
When I went back to regular swimming my legs were so knackered I didn't actually kick at all. It didn't seem to have any detrimental effect whatsoever but I'm sure things will all come together in the long run.
Getting to work I can feel the muscles aching - new muscles - and they're good running muscles too so long runs and coming togethers are all on the cards.
The first four laps of kick practice today were tedious as last week but were around 15 seconds faster so yay for progress. I did them earlier this time so that I could get another set in later.
They tired me out so much that I decided not to do too much more, maybe just two more lengths.
This time I set off at a right pelt! It went really well but I burned out by the time I got to the middle of the length. Perhaps this is the problem. My kick is "ok" but just not sustainable. It's pretty much the problem with my whole swimming at the moment.
So I did some froggy-legs and then kicked the rest of the length and did the same on the return trip. This seemed to go much better for me and during the times I was actually kicking, I was less depressingly slow.
So it gives me something to look forwards to next time.
When I went back to regular swimming my legs were so knackered I didn't actually kick at all. It didn't seem to have any detrimental effect whatsoever but I'm sure things will all come together in the long run.
Getting to work I can feel the muscles aching - new muscles - and they're good running muscles too so long runs and coming togethers are all on the cards.
Friday, October 07, 2016
Being Brave
It's pretty scary going back to basics. It's pretty scary starting again.
I haven't swum since the seaside experience at Worthing (force 6 gales). I was recently challenged to develop a positive attitude and write down 5 - 12 things to change this year. I haven't done so yet but one of the things resolutely on the list is to improve my swimming. It's a part of the time reduction plan and an area where I can make massive gains. In theory, around 10 minutes but possibly only 6 would be required.
The worst aspect of my swimming, I believe, is my kick. When I only kick, much of my propulsion is gone. I find this surprising since I have strong legs but then much of the kick in swimming comes from the hips (and probably back / core) and I know these things to be weak in me. I usually don't do kick drills because I am so bad at them it depresses me and I have, to date, seen little point in beating up something so inherently bad.
Still, my resolve is to improve this aspect of my race and since there's not much gain to be had in changing my stroke (and I find it incredibly difficult to turn over much faster or harder without losing finesse) I have to start looking at my kick. All coaches have told me my stroke looks fine so there must be something not happening right.
Since my kick is so obviously ineffective, I figure we can make huge gains here.
So I resolved to do kick drills on a regular basis right through till next season.
I've been trying to swim all week so I ran out of time today and HAD to go swimming this morning.
I decided to only swim 30 minutes (not lap counting) because I forgot to put my lap counter on and I really forget to count, when left to my own devices. There's far too much going on in my head.
I started swimming until I fatigued and looked at my watch, 7min 35s. Perfect. I can do 4 x 7:30s and make up 30 minutes. I felt like I'd swum 10 - 14 laps. So many that I couldn't have remembered to count them and not so many that I was swimming super-fast. I did it again and the second time around stopped at 16:24 - improved endurance. I swam again and clocked 26:00. Brilliant. Getting better.
Time for kicks.
I grabbed a buoy and got in the slow lane. Not even going to inconvenience the middle lane with this!
Off to a great start - assisted by the water jets from the shallow end. Then slowed to nothing. Old ladies swam by.
Only the gradual arrival of the steps persuaded me that I was actually making some progress then WHAM! I was hit by the side-current from the opposite side of the pool and had to kick even harder just to swim in a straight line. Still, I wobbled onwards and just about managed to steer myself in a semi-circle before doing some froggy-legs to manoeuvre myself in the opposite direction.
Off I went again, slowly waddling my way down the pool and fighting that side current again. Once I reached the wall I had to put my feet down and walk to the edge. There was no fighting those water jets.
I had to get my breath back before setting off again and repeating it all. Pointy toes, wiggly legs, achey arms.
Back to the shallows and my watch was reading 31:46. It took me 7 minutes to kick 4 lengths.
Depressing
Exhuasting
but my first baby steps to swimming improvement.
I haven't swum since the seaside experience at Worthing (force 6 gales). I was recently challenged to develop a positive attitude and write down 5 - 12 things to change this year. I haven't done so yet but one of the things resolutely on the list is to improve my swimming. It's a part of the time reduction plan and an area where I can make massive gains. In theory, around 10 minutes but possibly only 6 would be required.
The worst aspect of my swimming, I believe, is my kick. When I only kick, much of my propulsion is gone. I find this surprising since I have strong legs but then much of the kick in swimming comes from the hips (and probably back / core) and I know these things to be weak in me. I usually don't do kick drills because I am so bad at them it depresses me and I have, to date, seen little point in beating up something so inherently bad.
Still, my resolve is to improve this aspect of my race and since there's not much gain to be had in changing my stroke (and I find it incredibly difficult to turn over much faster or harder without losing finesse) I have to start looking at my kick. All coaches have told me my stroke looks fine so there must be something not happening right.
Since my kick is so obviously ineffective, I figure we can make huge gains here.
So I resolved to do kick drills on a regular basis right through till next season.
I've been trying to swim all week so I ran out of time today and HAD to go swimming this morning.
I decided to only swim 30 minutes (not lap counting) because I forgot to put my lap counter on and I really forget to count, when left to my own devices. There's far too much going on in my head.
I started swimming until I fatigued and looked at my watch, 7min 35s. Perfect. I can do 4 x 7:30s and make up 30 minutes. I felt like I'd swum 10 - 14 laps. So many that I couldn't have remembered to count them and not so many that I was swimming super-fast. I did it again and the second time around stopped at 16:24 - improved endurance. I swam again and clocked 26:00. Brilliant. Getting better.
Time for kicks.
I grabbed a buoy and got in the slow lane. Not even going to inconvenience the middle lane with this!
Off to a great start - assisted by the water jets from the shallow end. Then slowed to nothing. Old ladies swam by.
Only the gradual arrival of the steps persuaded me that I was actually making some progress then WHAM! I was hit by the side-current from the opposite side of the pool and had to kick even harder just to swim in a straight line. Still, I wobbled onwards and just about managed to steer myself in a semi-circle before doing some froggy-legs to manoeuvre myself in the opposite direction.
Off I went again, slowly waddling my way down the pool and fighting that side current again. Once I reached the wall I had to put my feet down and walk to the edge. There was no fighting those water jets.
I had to get my breath back before setting off again and repeating it all. Pointy toes, wiggly legs, achey arms.
Back to the shallows and my watch was reading 31:46. It took me 7 minutes to kick 4 lengths.
Depressing
Exhuasting
but my first baby steps to swimming improvement.
Monday, February 29, 2016
Ironman Training Week 4 - Lakeland Classics
I was looking forward to this week - not for training but for work. It was to involve 2 nights in the same hotel. Pure. Unadulterated. Bliss. All the perks of being away (hotel spa, free good food prepared by someone else, no washing up, clean and tidy room) without the panic of daily check in / check out. A place to get used to. I sorted out a bunch of swim / bike and run options including the location of the local pool and some bike and run routes both flat and hilly.
We did our site survey on Monday then I headed out for a run up and down Morecambe promenade. I was given the (I think unreasonable) time of 7:00 to aim for dinner. They wouldn't hear arguments through till 7:30 so I had an hour in which to run 5 miles and get ready for dinner. I was already feeling sluggish and after 5 minutes running it wasn't looking like I was going to get to the shower so I sped up.
At the turnaround point, I found myself running into a roaring head wind until I saw a young man in an enduro teeshirt running back the other way ahead of me. A quick sprint saw me catch him up and I followed him as silently as possible so as not to make him run faster. It worked until I had to start breathing again at which point I made him jump and his adrenaline surge eventually left me for dead.
I arrived back at the hotel 10 minutes early and even had time to dry my hair before dinner. I went down with the intention of not drinking and I would have held my own if it had just been us but there was a chap there from the customer's organisation so we all had a beer or two to fit in and then I had to keep drinking to drone out the monotony of football conversation which inevitably filtered into the evening. Really, I can not try when it comes to football chat.
As I sank my last cocktail (thankfully filled to the brim with ice), I feared the night ahead. Sure enough - a full moon, by the ocean, drunk... I hardly slept a wink. I didn't feel particularly bad as I carefully rehydrated and ate more food to protect my blood sugar levels but I was restless as hell as the body rejected the alcohol throughout the night. I tried reducing the room temperature by opening a window and sleeping on my yoga mat for a few hours which seemed to work until I woke up stiff and moved back to the bed. Comforting but not comfortable for more than a few hours. I woke up snuggled in bed in a cold room at 5am, turned off the swim alarm and went back to sleep. Listening to the body.
I came out of my Tuesday meeting to discover that the Wednesday meeting had been cancelled in favour of a Thursday - Classic rude behaviour. The hotel was booked and I was all up for saying but dilligence said we had to try to get out money back and that we did so my grad and I dutifully checked out and he drove the 4 hours back to Sheffield. To be fair, if I'd been on my own I would have stayed but two more nights, two more meals seems to be taking the piss. I also might have stayed away somewhere else and gone for a lovely bike ride for I had my lovely bike with me but since I had a boy to get home to his mates, I lolled in the passenger seat, did some work and then looked on it as being thankful to be home... at 7pm with a full day of work ahead of me the next day.
At last though, the opportunity to ride to work. It's 40 minutes each way so I count a ride to work and back as two of my weekly rides at this point. It's not really valid but on a week filled with compulsory driving I am glad of the excuse.
On Thursday it was back to the lakes for the rescheduled meeting. I packed my swim stuff and rather than swim at home then head North I decided to make sure I made the meeting and drove first, scheduling a swim in my head at Whitehaven pool before the meeting. I lazed in bed for an extra 10 minutes, faffed at breakfast and eventually only hit the road at 7. Having fought my way over to the M1, it all went to shit so I fought my way back on to the Woodhead and went around the M62 which was blissfully flowing but then got stuck behind all manner of tractor / digger / trailer / land rover combinations on the twisty lakeland roads including the most sluggish and inexperienced HGV delivery driver known to man.
I rocked up at Whitehaven just in time to get a sandwich from Tesco and inhale it before the meeting which is a relief because the organisers of a 12:00 meeting did not provide any food or even coffee. The height of rudeness in my book.
Three hours later and I was released to pursue life. A swim in a strange pool in the middle of the day wasn't appealing (what if it's all kids swimming lessons) so I got a jump on the traffic and made my way across the Northern side of the Lakes. By 5pm I was at Braithwaite, looking longingly at Lane Foot Campsite. I turned off with the plan of parking in Braithwaite and running up the road for simplicity's sake.
However, I missed the parking and turned instead down the Newlands valley which I pursued until I found a layby with convenient footpath looking up on to the fells.
The time flew by. 30 minutes of up followed by 20 minutes of down. I forgot my windproof so did lots of running to stay warm and a little photography. I fancied running further but decided to stick to my training plan at the top and head down the valley before over stretching myself, getting lost, it getting dark (no head torch and no safety gear) and the world ending.
I forgot how hard it is running down hill and was blissfully thankful that I had cut things short (spot on). I changed my top and shoes, threw on a warm layer and set off for home sated. The Lakes made me extremely happy. I spent the rest of the journey toying with the idea of moving there.
So Friday, I really had to do my swim come hell or high water. No risks, I took the car to work and stopped at the pool on the way. Given a full 4 days of rest from the water, I was on fire. I kept up with the fast girls (well, for a length anyway) and I churned through 1200m with 10 x 33m sprints, no problem. Well, I say no problem, I couldn't have done anymore and the shower was a full-blown blessing.
At lunchtime at work, instead of going to the pub I rolled out my yoga mat in my secret place and indulged in a good 45 minutes of practice without a single person realising I was there. I finished my work and went home. The week was a success. I felt ready to take on the world and planned to go out with Norton Wheelers on Saturday morning.
Riding with Norton is a bold move and something I only usually undertake when on top form so as not to leave them waiting for me at every turn. I spent the evening (yes the whole evening) fitting road tyres and inner tubes to my cyclo-cross bike to give it its first on-road outing. In the process I punctured 4 inner-tubes and gave myself a blood blister. The wheels are an absolute nightmare but there you go. It's the price of elite racing nowadays that you have tyres you can't get off in a month of Sundays.
After the road tyres I spent the rest of the evening cleaning hydraulic oil off the rotor on the front wheel of the mountain bike. The shop tried to pursuade me that having fixed the leak, my rotor was contaminated and needed to be replaced. Bless them, I like to think (they are friends of TSK's) that they have my best interests at heart and aren't just trying to sell me shit but when a female engineer is set a problem to solve that involves cleaning and solvents I can't resist. I spent Friday evening with Muck'off degreaser and nail polish remover, cleaning the rotor.
On Saturday morning I was less confident of my road riding abilities so I had a relative lie in and mess-about before committing to going out with TSK on our mountain bikes. Since we're doing a long distance ride together this summer it seems only right. Better try out those brakes before my race at Grizedale too.
So we started hard on the local trails then miandered up the Rivelin valley on a combination of A57 and Wyming Brook before popping over the top and descending onto Cuthroat Bridge and climbing back alongside Derwent Reservoir. A drop down to the cafe at the end then back onto the North path to the head of the valley. We left the reservoir behind along with a bunch of lads who had come the wrong way and were busy reluctantly climbing out of the valley again and we climbed on to the moors, skirting Margery Hill and setting out towards Langsett reservoir. The climb was brutal, involving pushing the bike up steep ruts for around 100m
It was some of the most challenging riding I've done on EmVee. I wasn't racing so I was trying to keep my feet dry as I knew it was going to be a long day and it was oh so cold. Mercifully most of the bogs were still frozen but we did go to a lot of effort to skirt around those that weren't frozen.
The path streaked out across an off-camber hillside which was slithery and muddy with semi-defrosted clay before degrading into a loose rocky descent with boulders released by the freeze/thaw cycles of the winter. EmVee took it all in my stride and I bounced across things well aware that I'd have walked the lot on a 26er.
Reaching Langsett was a relief. We skirted the reservoir to the North then crossed the main Woodhead road to access the Trans-Pennine trail through Penistone where we stopped for a cup of tea and the most massive piece of lemon cake I have ever been served. The whole lot cost £5 and came with two hobnobs on the side - each. When a colleague from work walked in the door I wasn't surprised as he lives nearby and regularly uses the trail to get some exercise on the weekend. We had a great chat and went our separate ways to finish our weekends in different states I am sure.
We had another 13 miles to do before dark so put a bit of a rush on although the up and down nature of the trail through Warncliffe Woods made it almost impossible to rush tired legs. We were in the heart of downhill mountainbiker country with wild trails spewing out onto the main path left and right. I have serious respect for some of those riders. There are some mental cases riding in Sheffield.
We worked our way around lads playing on the path with remote controlled cars before wobbling our way down the last descent to Oughtibridge and jawbone hill then the pedal home down the road where I got clipped by a lady in a car. I'd had such a good day out that I couldn't even summons any anger to direct at her terrified little face. I gently scolded her by giving her calm advice about passing cyclists and learned one thing about myself. I need to stop saying, "it's OK" when things aren't really OK. What I mean is, "I forgive you."
It feels like an odd thing to say nowadays, as though it's somehow a religious blessing. Is that me? I find myself saying it a lot, "It's OK". No. Nearly knocking me off my bike isn't OK. Being hurtful, stealing my personal time. It's not OK. But I do forgive and I'm proud of that. It sounds condescending I think but it's a gift. One I intend to give more frequently.
I planned to ride short and credit myslef the long, planned 30 mile ride that I had scheduled on the road.
In the end I rode longer than 30 miles (in fact, 45 miles) and it was mostly off road, hard and demanding work, a lot of it pushing or carrying a mountain bike. On Sunday I felt like I'd been hit by a truck so I gave myself an easy day, chosing to credit the 5 mile planned run to the time spent on my feet on Saturday. That only left me 1200m of swimming to do.
If you haven't got the hang of it yet, I love my new pool (it's been new for 14 months now). I still haven't memorised the timetable but I looked up the opening hours and was overjoyed to find that lane swimming is from 8am till 3pm at the weekend. A big change from my previous pool which (as an international arena for swimming competitions) is closed most weekends for events.
It was blissfully quiet with only 2 men slower than me and 2 kids who were swimming fast 1 lap reps. My 100m (3 length sets) didn't interfere with either of them. After my warmup laps my arms were screaming for mercy. It seems mountain biking is not conducive to swim training. Still, there was work to be done. The pool is old and the gutter at the end is shallow so there's really nowhere to rest tired arms at the deep end so on my deep-end rests I had to flop myself over the stairs and hope that no-one wanted to get out of the pool that end. Thankfully no-one disturbed me. I eventually got into the pace of 100m sprints - about 55 strokes per minute saw me through. I toyed with the idea of dropping the last laps from my schedule but there were only 15 lengths left to do. 7 touches of the end. I set my bipper to 55 strokes per minute and churned them out. I could have carried on but it would've been torture so I receded to the shower instead and sensibly walked home instead of going into town to spend money.
Instead I bought healthy local food and set about sleeping at home, renewing my tri club membership, entering a race and booking our SHAFF tickets before loading the slow cooker with the perfect chilli.
Despite my afternoon nap I was knackered at bed time and finally have slouched into the full force of the Ironman training plan - that is, Monday morning feels like the resolute rest day that it should be, exhausted by what has gone before. Next week the swim moves uncompromisingly into 1500m sessions which are going to challenge me to new levels... and I have to do all of the swimming and biking around a trip to Scotland. This week there will be no faltering - no alcohol, no late nights. It's time to get committed and what a better time than week 5?
Bring it.
We did our site survey on Monday then I headed out for a run up and down Morecambe promenade. I was given the (I think unreasonable) time of 7:00 to aim for dinner. They wouldn't hear arguments through till 7:30 so I had an hour in which to run 5 miles and get ready for dinner. I was already feeling sluggish and after 5 minutes running it wasn't looking like I was going to get to the shower so I sped up.
At the turnaround point, I found myself running into a roaring head wind until I saw a young man in an enduro teeshirt running back the other way ahead of me. A quick sprint saw me catch him up and I followed him as silently as possible so as not to make him run faster. It worked until I had to start breathing again at which point I made him jump and his adrenaline surge eventually left me for dead.
I arrived back at the hotel 10 minutes early and even had time to dry my hair before dinner. I went down with the intention of not drinking and I would have held my own if it had just been us but there was a chap there from the customer's organisation so we all had a beer or two to fit in and then I had to keep drinking to drone out the monotony of football conversation which inevitably filtered into the evening. Really, I can not try when it comes to football chat.
As I sank my last cocktail (thankfully filled to the brim with ice), I feared the night ahead. Sure enough - a full moon, by the ocean, drunk... I hardly slept a wink. I didn't feel particularly bad as I carefully rehydrated and ate more food to protect my blood sugar levels but I was restless as hell as the body rejected the alcohol throughout the night. I tried reducing the room temperature by opening a window and sleeping on my yoga mat for a few hours which seemed to work until I woke up stiff and moved back to the bed. Comforting but not comfortable for more than a few hours. I woke up snuggled in bed in a cold room at 5am, turned off the swim alarm and went back to sleep. Listening to the body.
I came out of my Tuesday meeting to discover that the Wednesday meeting had been cancelled in favour of a Thursday - Classic rude behaviour. The hotel was booked and I was all up for saying but dilligence said we had to try to get out money back and that we did so my grad and I dutifully checked out and he drove the 4 hours back to Sheffield. To be fair, if I'd been on my own I would have stayed but two more nights, two more meals seems to be taking the piss. I also might have stayed away somewhere else and gone for a lovely bike ride for I had my lovely bike with me but since I had a boy to get home to his mates, I lolled in the passenger seat, did some work and then looked on it as being thankful to be home... at 7pm with a full day of work ahead of me the next day.
At last though, the opportunity to ride to work. It's 40 minutes each way so I count a ride to work and back as two of my weekly rides at this point. It's not really valid but on a week filled with compulsory driving I am glad of the excuse.
On Thursday it was back to the lakes for the rescheduled meeting. I packed my swim stuff and rather than swim at home then head North I decided to make sure I made the meeting and drove first, scheduling a swim in my head at Whitehaven pool before the meeting. I lazed in bed for an extra 10 minutes, faffed at breakfast and eventually only hit the road at 7. Having fought my way over to the M1, it all went to shit so I fought my way back on to the Woodhead and went around the M62 which was blissfully flowing but then got stuck behind all manner of tractor / digger / trailer / land rover combinations on the twisty lakeland roads including the most sluggish and inexperienced HGV delivery driver known to man.
I rocked up at Whitehaven just in time to get a sandwich from Tesco and inhale it before the meeting which is a relief because the organisers of a 12:00 meeting did not provide any food or even coffee. The height of rudeness in my book.
Three hours later and I was released to pursue life. A swim in a strange pool in the middle of the day wasn't appealing (what if it's all kids swimming lessons) so I got a jump on the traffic and made my way across the Northern side of the Lakes. By 5pm I was at Braithwaite, looking longingly at Lane Foot Campsite. I turned off with the plan of parking in Braithwaite and running up the road for simplicity's sake.
However, I missed the parking and turned instead down the Newlands valley which I pursued until I found a layby with convenient footpath looking up on to the fells.
The time flew by. 30 minutes of up followed by 20 minutes of down. I forgot my windproof so did lots of running to stay warm and a little photography. I fancied running further but decided to stick to my training plan at the top and head down the valley before over stretching myself, getting lost, it getting dark (no head torch and no safety gear) and the world ending.
I forgot how hard it is running down hill and was blissfully thankful that I had cut things short (spot on). I changed my top and shoes, threw on a warm layer and set off for home sated. The Lakes made me extremely happy. I spent the rest of the journey toying with the idea of moving there.
So Friday, I really had to do my swim come hell or high water. No risks, I took the car to work and stopped at the pool on the way. Given a full 4 days of rest from the water, I was on fire. I kept up with the fast girls (well, for a length anyway) and I churned through 1200m with 10 x 33m sprints, no problem. Well, I say no problem, I couldn't have done anymore and the shower was a full-blown blessing.
At lunchtime at work, instead of going to the pub I rolled out my yoga mat in my secret place and indulged in a good 45 minutes of practice without a single person realising I was there. I finished my work and went home. The week was a success. I felt ready to take on the world and planned to go out with Norton Wheelers on Saturday morning.
Riding with Norton is a bold move and something I only usually undertake when on top form so as not to leave them waiting for me at every turn. I spent the evening (yes the whole evening) fitting road tyres and inner tubes to my cyclo-cross bike to give it its first on-road outing. In the process I punctured 4 inner-tubes and gave myself a blood blister. The wheels are an absolute nightmare but there you go. It's the price of elite racing nowadays that you have tyres you can't get off in a month of Sundays.
After the road tyres I spent the rest of the evening cleaning hydraulic oil off the rotor on the front wheel of the mountain bike. The shop tried to pursuade me that having fixed the leak, my rotor was contaminated and needed to be replaced. Bless them, I like to think (they are friends of TSK's) that they have my best interests at heart and aren't just trying to sell me shit but when a female engineer is set a problem to solve that involves cleaning and solvents I can't resist. I spent Friday evening with Muck'off degreaser and nail polish remover, cleaning the rotor.
On Saturday morning I was less confident of my road riding abilities so I had a relative lie in and mess-about before committing to going out with TSK on our mountain bikes. Since we're doing a long distance ride together this summer it seems only right. Better try out those brakes before my race at Grizedale too.
So we started hard on the local trails then miandered up the Rivelin valley on a combination of A57 and Wyming Brook before popping over the top and descending onto Cuthroat Bridge and climbing back alongside Derwent Reservoir. A drop down to the cafe at the end then back onto the North path to the head of the valley. We left the reservoir behind along with a bunch of lads who had come the wrong way and were busy reluctantly climbing out of the valley again and we climbed on to the moors, skirting Margery Hill and setting out towards Langsett reservoir. The climb was brutal, involving pushing the bike up steep ruts for around 100m
It was some of the most challenging riding I've done on EmVee. I wasn't racing so I was trying to keep my feet dry as I knew it was going to be a long day and it was oh so cold. Mercifully most of the bogs were still frozen but we did go to a lot of effort to skirt around those that weren't frozen.
The path streaked out across an off-camber hillside which was slithery and muddy with semi-defrosted clay before degrading into a loose rocky descent with boulders released by the freeze/thaw cycles of the winter. EmVee took it all in my stride and I bounced across things well aware that I'd have walked the lot on a 26er.
Reaching Langsett was a relief. We skirted the reservoir to the North then crossed the main Woodhead road to access the Trans-Pennine trail through Penistone where we stopped for a cup of tea and the most massive piece of lemon cake I have ever been served. The whole lot cost £5 and came with two hobnobs on the side - each. When a colleague from work walked in the door I wasn't surprised as he lives nearby and regularly uses the trail to get some exercise on the weekend. We had a great chat and went our separate ways to finish our weekends in different states I am sure.
We had another 13 miles to do before dark so put a bit of a rush on although the up and down nature of the trail through Warncliffe Woods made it almost impossible to rush tired legs. We were in the heart of downhill mountainbiker country with wild trails spewing out onto the main path left and right. I have serious respect for some of those riders. There are some mental cases riding in Sheffield.
We worked our way around lads playing on the path with remote controlled cars before wobbling our way down the last descent to Oughtibridge and jawbone hill then the pedal home down the road where I got clipped by a lady in a car. I'd had such a good day out that I couldn't even summons any anger to direct at her terrified little face. I gently scolded her by giving her calm advice about passing cyclists and learned one thing about myself. I need to stop saying, "it's OK" when things aren't really OK. What I mean is, "I forgive you."
It feels like an odd thing to say nowadays, as though it's somehow a religious blessing. Is that me? I find myself saying it a lot, "It's OK". No. Nearly knocking me off my bike isn't OK. Being hurtful, stealing my personal time. It's not OK. But I do forgive and I'm proud of that. It sounds condescending I think but it's a gift. One I intend to give more frequently.
I planned to ride short and credit myslef the long, planned 30 mile ride that I had scheduled on the road.
In the end I rode longer than 30 miles (in fact, 45 miles) and it was mostly off road, hard and demanding work, a lot of it pushing or carrying a mountain bike. On Sunday I felt like I'd been hit by a truck so I gave myself an easy day, chosing to credit the 5 mile planned run to the time spent on my feet on Saturday. That only left me 1200m of swimming to do.
If you haven't got the hang of it yet, I love my new pool (it's been new for 14 months now). I still haven't memorised the timetable but I looked up the opening hours and was overjoyed to find that lane swimming is from 8am till 3pm at the weekend. A big change from my previous pool which (as an international arena for swimming competitions) is closed most weekends for events.
It was blissfully quiet with only 2 men slower than me and 2 kids who were swimming fast 1 lap reps. My 100m (3 length sets) didn't interfere with either of them. After my warmup laps my arms were screaming for mercy. It seems mountain biking is not conducive to swim training. Still, there was work to be done. The pool is old and the gutter at the end is shallow so there's really nowhere to rest tired arms at the deep end so on my deep-end rests I had to flop myself over the stairs and hope that no-one wanted to get out of the pool that end. Thankfully no-one disturbed me. I eventually got into the pace of 100m sprints - about 55 strokes per minute saw me through. I toyed with the idea of dropping the last laps from my schedule but there were only 15 lengths left to do. 7 touches of the end. I set my bipper to 55 strokes per minute and churned them out. I could have carried on but it would've been torture so I receded to the shower instead and sensibly walked home instead of going into town to spend money.
Instead I bought healthy local food and set about sleeping at home, renewing my tri club membership, entering a race and booking our SHAFF tickets before loading the slow cooker with the perfect chilli.
Despite my afternoon nap I was knackered at bed time and finally have slouched into the full force of the Ironman training plan - that is, Monday morning feels like the resolute rest day that it should be, exhausted by what has gone before. Next week the swim moves uncompromisingly into 1500m sessions which are going to challenge me to new levels... and I have to do all of the swimming and biking around a trip to Scotland. This week there will be no faltering - no alcohol, no late nights. It's time to get committed and what a better time than week 5?
Bring it.
Saturday, January 30, 2016
In the water... again
So on Friday I swam.
I concluded that there's no point pushing myself to ride and swim yet. Last week proved that I can't do both with any fluidity so for now I will drive to the pool, drive to work (maybe squeeze in a run at lunchtime - although I didn't manage it today) and then drive home.
I planned to be up early and at the pool by 7. In fact, kittens came and knocked n the door at 5am and woke us all up. I had an unusually relaxing breakfast, drove to the pool at a leisurely pace, walked in the door with the 7am queue and got in the fast lane this time.
There weren't many in the fast lane - 4 people? I slotted in at the back and swam my 3 x 10 lengths with some semblance of form although I had to slow my stroke timer down by 1 stroke per minute since I've been out of the water for over a week.
I had my toes tickled and got passed a few times but there was no stress and I got out before everyone else and was showered and in the car on the way to work by 8am. I could have managed another 10 but then we're all about consistency. Traffic at 8am was sooooooo light.
I didn't manage to run because I went to the pub with my colleagues. Sometimes it's nice to do this and we have a really good laugh. This time, although it was nice, I would have actually rather been running.
My grad-boy left at 2:30 because his sister was ill and the family were all going over to see her. I stayed until 5 when I realised I had to go to Meadowhall so wasted the last hours of rush hour doing laps of the mall and spending too much money but hey...
As a consequence, the drive home was a dream. I literally flopped into TSK after unpacking my shopping and enjoyed knitting and then bed. It feels like a fitting end to my rest and recovery from this horrible chesty cough. It's not completely gone but I do feel better. The swim made me sneeze because of the chlorinated water and nothing else. I felt like the run.
I'm fell racing on Sunday so I'm not even sure what to do with my Saturday. It's longer than I've run in a while and I'm very nervous about finishing it as I don't really have any mountain legs yet either. In the same vein as last year, I might file this weekend under "whatever I feel like". It's the end of January tomorrow. It's time for this year to wake up.
I concluded that there's no point pushing myself to ride and swim yet. Last week proved that I can't do both with any fluidity so for now I will drive to the pool, drive to work (maybe squeeze in a run at lunchtime - although I didn't manage it today) and then drive home.
I planned to be up early and at the pool by 7. In fact, kittens came and knocked n the door at 5am and woke us all up. I had an unusually relaxing breakfast, drove to the pool at a leisurely pace, walked in the door with the 7am queue and got in the fast lane this time.
There weren't many in the fast lane - 4 people? I slotted in at the back and swam my 3 x 10 lengths with some semblance of form although I had to slow my stroke timer down by 1 stroke per minute since I've been out of the water for over a week.
I had my toes tickled and got passed a few times but there was no stress and I got out before everyone else and was showered and in the car on the way to work by 8am. I could have managed another 10 but then we're all about consistency. Traffic at 8am was sooooooo light.
I didn't manage to run because I went to the pub with my colleagues. Sometimes it's nice to do this and we have a really good laugh. This time, although it was nice, I would have actually rather been running.
My grad-boy left at 2:30 because his sister was ill and the family were all going over to see her. I stayed until 5 when I realised I had to go to Meadowhall so wasted the last hours of rush hour doing laps of the mall and spending too much money but hey...
As a consequence, the drive home was a dream. I literally flopped into TSK after unpacking my shopping and enjoyed knitting and then bed. It feels like a fitting end to my rest and recovery from this horrible chesty cough. It's not completely gone but I do feel better. The swim made me sneeze because of the chlorinated water and nothing else. I felt like the run.
I'm fell racing on Sunday so I'm not even sure what to do with my Saturday. It's longer than I've run in a while and I'm very nervous about finishing it as I don't really have any mountain legs yet either. In the same vein as last year, I might file this weekend under "whatever I feel like". It's the end of January tomorrow. It's time for this year to wake up.
Saturday, January 16, 2016
Remembering to be kind to myself - week minus 23
Monday
Given that I raced the national champs on Saturday and spent all day Sunday recovering, I figured it would do me no harm to start my training on a Monday. If you have a good day in front of you, you might as well make use of it... and that I did.I used the opportunity to swim in the morning, come out of the pool into sunrise, ride in the sunshine and home under clear, dark skies. That went down very well and I got a good speed on, regardless of being on Lovely with a bag of still-soggy swim kit in my bag.
The swim was rough and tumble. My first morning swim of the training season. It was busy and choppy and I even resorted to the middle lane to avoid the washing machine status of the fast lane. I didn't fancy resting because it was too much confrontation so I did 16 lengths then 14 before bailing out for the day. It was slow but it was done. Another tick in the box.
Tuesday
Like Monday, Tuesday dawned fine but I had promised myself a run and also yoga. The yoga was blissful in the morning. I feel well and very flexible and after the rush of Christmas, my brain is finally starting to calm down.My promised run happened at lunchtime.
On account of my lack of running motivation I have been running with my heaphones and tunes on. I rarely do this in the hills but, making my way through magna in Rotherham, headphones really help. This time I ran the whole time - stopping only for one photo and not stretching when I got to the mid point. I also didn't overshoot the turn of for my run back to the office. It's no wonder I took 10 minutes off my last time for this run but I'm still not very fast with a 10:41 mile. It's a bit shit when wearing headphones usually makes me run faster.
 |
... although I managed a yoga set and some very satisfying rides to work, it wasn't until today that my brain woke up again. I can look at this swan and remember back to the serenity of Tuesday. |
It turns out we have a very important presentation to deliver and I have been allocated a section of it. Over time, the work was handed over. Descriptions, file locations. I got up to leave as a message came through from B. "Have you decided who to allocate that project in Cheshire to?" My boss looked at me and said my name. The phone on my desk rang and I picked it up remotely. It was B. Someone has to be in Cheshire before 12 tomorrow. The first thing I did was finish booking my ski holiday before some bastard stole it from me then I gathered my things and headed over to Cheshire.
I booked into a nice hotel and enjoyed my evening immensely. Catching up on this rush project then wiling the night away, restless, frustrated and excited. It stopped being fun about 1am then I didn't sleep until about 3am when I ate some food. I resolved a few things in my head... then followed up with porridge at 5am. Running low on phone battery isn't good for sleep patterns. Nor is a half-arsed curtain in some ex-travelodge. I snoozed until I was woken for real breakfast.
Wednesday
Wednesday's site visit flew past in a flash of brainstorming and productivity. Most enjoyable. It would have made the drive home dreamy except I was stuck in traffic for way too long. I hadn't even packed running gear to enjoy myself on the way home. Although, by the time I got to Rushup Edge it was not only dark but also sleeting.The day came to an abrupt end back outside the offices. I felt like I'd been in a bubble all day. Time to face the old life, the real world - although cuddles from my husband helped... immensely. That's real world stuff.
Thursday
Thursday felt like a hangover day. I rode to work extremely quickly to get up for an 8:30 meeting this time.
At lunchtime I disappeared from the office into the space under the stairs. It's a secret hidey hole where I go to find myself - or more specifically my yoga mat. Talk about flexible. I am reaching parts of my body I haven't wrapped my fingers around for years and holding some good poses. I stopped short of attempting another hand stand and instead attempted the wheel. Successfully executed although one side of my body is more adept than the other so I need to work on that. I find it weird that through my twisted mind, right now, the yoga is gradually unravelling my body.
Back to work with a takeaway salad box.
It's a good job I'm enjoying this project... but by the time 4pm came around I was ready to go... specifically go for a haircut that I am desperately in need of and has been booked for some time. I asked people to help me with things. People made me late As Mel ran her skillful hands through my hair I fell asleep right there and then in the bloody sink.
One last hill climb. One last bloody hill climb to the house. I was knackered. With a busy day to follow.
Friday
Despite packing everything I needed for the day's exercise - swim kit and run kit - I did none of it. I was feeling ill so I drove to work - early, discovered things that I'd asked to be done hadn't been done. A shitty start to the day. It got worse with the dissolution of the project and effort. My team of one and I ended on a low note. We tried our best to start planning for next week but it disintegrated into him leaving early and me doing half the work before next week, just to get ahead of the game.
I decided the game wasn't fair and left it at work.
I tried to find the motivation to swim on the way home but it just wasn't there.
Saturday
Saturday started slowwwwly. One of those days where you can't feel your arms because they were over your face keeping the sunrise out.
We had planned to walk into town. It's amazing how booking an expensive ski holiday suddenly makes you relish the idea of walking into town to obtain refunds on un-given and poorly chosen Christmas gifts. When you get a credit card refund for an item you only bought to bolster the order so you didn't pay delivery and you used a voucher, so really, you're like, £18 better off from a £20 voucher when you only bought a £12 pair of knickers - that. Paid for lunch anyway.
On the way home we noticed the snow on the hills.
There's no way I couldn't go out for a run - was there? Back at the house I couldn't feel it. I couldn't feel the will. I am still feeling ill. I knew my lungs would hurt when I tried to use them but, after a brief sit down to recover from the walk in town I felt able to go out. I had to at least try to make this week pass without me missing out on (not just one but) two of my training days. I vowed to try one exercise and I will give the other two a go tomorrow.
I went for my run. I slothed down to the valley bottom then trundled along the river bank. I tried alternate paths which were interesting. Places I've not been before... places which looked like trespass but didn't seem to bother anyone.
At the top of the valley I turned around and headed home on the flat - as much as possible. The rivers were still flowing strong and I love this little overflow on my way home. I listened to the river, the birds, the trees. I wasn't missing the music, the bustle of work, the banter, my bed, I felt alive.
Then I stopped. In fact I stopped for every hill climb on the way home. The lungs just weren't playing and there was a lot of coughing. I resigned myself to a trip to the docs on Monday and slothed my way back to the house. 12:20 minute miles now.
Still, not to worry, the easy day of the week comes tomorrow - Swimming and cycling - and I felt good that I'd done today's run.
I can't be hard on myself for missing Wednesday's sessions. It was, after all, a day of walking around all day wearing heavy boots. I can't be hard on myself all of the time - especially not with 22 weeks to go.
So tomorrow I will cycle and swim in the comfort of the indoors because I am a soft shite. My lungs have no patience for the cold right now but I am happier today in the knowledge that this week has helped me to find some balance in life. As things got tougher at work, things were figured out. I am ready to start next week anew. Perhaps my new year has come late. Business left over from last year was slow to finish.
Maybe there is a new year for me under this scab... if I just pick it a little.
Saturday, January 02, 2016
New Years Honeymoon Period Over
At least yoga class is back and the pool is open. It is the slow return to normal.
Mercifully, Helena went easy on us so I was able to sneak in a speedy 850m swim too.
3 x 8 lap sets were tiring though my last set was the fastest so could have done more but that's the point now.
My walk back up to the car was slow. We drank coffee, walked to Gertie's for lunch then I went home to bed for a bit. I have decided to seek doc's advice since the afternoon naps will need to stop next week and rest didn't get me anywhere either.
The rest of the day passed without comment between books, clicking needles and a little cooking.
I just hope I can sleep (not cough) tonight.
Mercifully, Helena went easy on us so I was able to sneak in a speedy 850m swim too.
3 x 8 lap sets were tiring though my last set was the fastest so could have done more but that's the point now.
My walk back up to the car was slow. We drank coffee, walked to Gertie's for lunch then I went home to bed for a bit. I have decided to seek doc's advice since the afternoon naps will need to stop next week and rest didn't get me anywhere either.
The rest of the day passed without comment between books, clicking needles and a little cooking.
I just hope I can sleep (not cough) tonight.
Wednesday, December 30, 2015
Christmas yoga and swimming recovery
I have spent 2 days feeling like an old person. After swimming I drowned my green lungs in a small, Italian beer before being annihilated at Scrabble. On Monday TSK drove us home then I wilted under the duvet whilst he went out for a ride. On Tuesday I wilted under the duvet whilst TSK went out for another ride. Like an old person, though, I did have a trip to the dentist and the doctor, just for some company... and fillings.
And I started a new knitting project.
After a prolonged day of knitting and sleeping we retreated to the Chinese takeaway for Christmas indulgence of a different kind. As I stood in the queue my legs started itching to move and I actually had to go out and pace up and down the street to feel better. Perhaps the illness is turning around. Sadly, after big food and TV the coughing was back. Not productive cough because you feel like it but annoying, tickly cough because you need to coughing.
I took it to bed and floundered. Literally until i finally suppressed it enough to sleep and woke at 8:30 with a bad back. Clearly been lying in the same position for 8 hours to avoid stirring the lungs.
I couldn't face another day lay on the sofa / bed / chair / floor so packed my swim stuff after breakfast and headed for the one place I have been comfortable doing any exercise this holiday - a nice chlorinated pool.
I didn't feel like it but I felt like doing nothing even less. Once in I started to wait for my body temperature to adapt but then concluded that the best approach was to let rip.
I had planned to do 12 lap sets, increasing on Sundays 300m sets by 33/25 times. I didn't know how much that was but it felt like it might be doable. First time around it was enjoyable. I hit 12 laps before I knew it and had to make myself rest. The next set I focused on pointing my toes since I noticed I wasn't doing it. Also if there's a time to use my legs in swimming it really has to be the time when I am unable to get out on the bike.
It made a difference - mainly that my breathing went to pot - but I was looking at my watch after 6 laps which (phew) turned out to be 8 as the next lap slid over to 10 and the 12 was done.
On the last set I kept count. I was tiring towards the end of the set but hey, I felt like I had more left in me. It was fine though. It's about consistency now and I want to be able to go again tomorrow - whether it's a swim or my beloved turbo.
I swam one more length to the end of the pool for my swan dive - pushing the boat out and flying in the face of fear that my sinuses would explode (they didn't).
With all that excess energy I decided to do my yoga at the gym instead of facing the prospect of my chilly loft when I got home.
Much to my dismay (ahem) the Sheffield Eagles rugby club were doing a spin session and I had to use all of my yogic strength to ignore their whoops and grunts as their coach led them through a gruelling spin set. However no amount of concentration could prevent me breaking out into a wide grin when they all started singing along with Justin Beiber's "Love Yourself". I was pretty impressed with the harmonies on 18 guys with legs the size of your average tree-trunk.
I mused over the yogic precept to 'speak no cruel words' and how difficult that is when the gymnasium offers such prime fodder.
The rugby team went home and I finished my set in peace, taking an indulgent moment to walk out without having touched a single machine. I also gave inner kudos to the man twice the size of me who joined me on the mat for a brief time to demonstrate his far superior flexibility.
The workout fired me up and felt much more beneficial than yesterday's slob-fest. I did shopping, household stuff I have been putting off forever and I felt like I earned this time, sitting on the sofa feeling fine.
Trepid Explorer, off to enjoy doing the dishes.
And I started a new knitting project.
After a prolonged day of knitting and sleeping we retreated to the Chinese takeaway for Christmas indulgence of a different kind. As I stood in the queue my legs started itching to move and I actually had to go out and pace up and down the street to feel better. Perhaps the illness is turning around. Sadly, after big food and TV the coughing was back. Not productive cough because you feel like it but annoying, tickly cough because you need to coughing.
I took it to bed and floundered. Literally until i finally suppressed it enough to sleep and woke at 8:30 with a bad back. Clearly been lying in the same position for 8 hours to avoid stirring the lungs.
I couldn't face another day lay on the sofa / bed / chair / floor so packed my swim stuff after breakfast and headed for the one place I have been comfortable doing any exercise this holiday - a nice chlorinated pool.
I didn't feel like it but I felt like doing nothing even less. Once in I started to wait for my body temperature to adapt but then concluded that the best approach was to let rip.
I had planned to do 12 lap sets, increasing on Sundays 300m sets by 33/25 times. I didn't know how much that was but it felt like it might be doable. First time around it was enjoyable. I hit 12 laps before I knew it and had to make myself rest. The next set I focused on pointing my toes since I noticed I wasn't doing it. Also if there's a time to use my legs in swimming it really has to be the time when I am unable to get out on the bike.
It made a difference - mainly that my breathing went to pot - but I was looking at my watch after 6 laps which (phew) turned out to be 8 as the next lap slid over to 10 and the 12 was done.
On the last set I kept count. I was tiring towards the end of the set but hey, I felt like I had more left in me. It was fine though. It's about consistency now and I want to be able to go again tomorrow - whether it's a swim or my beloved turbo.
I swam one more length to the end of the pool for my swan dive - pushing the boat out and flying in the face of fear that my sinuses would explode (they didn't).
With all that excess energy I decided to do my yoga at the gym instead of facing the prospect of my chilly loft when I got home.
Much to my dismay (ahem) the Sheffield Eagles rugby club were doing a spin session and I had to use all of my yogic strength to ignore their whoops and grunts as their coach led them through a gruelling spin set. However no amount of concentration could prevent me breaking out into a wide grin when they all started singing along with Justin Beiber's "Love Yourself". I was pretty impressed with the harmonies on 18 guys with legs the size of your average tree-trunk.
I mused over the yogic precept to 'speak no cruel words' and how difficult that is when the gymnasium offers such prime fodder.
The rugby team went home and I finished my set in peace, taking an indulgent moment to walk out without having touched a single machine. I also gave inner kudos to the man twice the size of me who joined me on the mat for a brief time to demonstrate his far superior flexibility.
The workout fired me up and felt much more beneficial than yesterday's slob-fest. I did shopping, household stuff I have been putting off forever and I felt like I earned this time, sitting on the sofa feeling fine.
Trepid Explorer, off to enjoy doing the dishes.
Sunday, December 27, 2015
Closing out 2015 early
It's nearly the end of the year. We are supposed to take stock aren't we? Out with the old, in with the new. New Years resolutions. I should be ready for one last indulgence then a new year, new me.
No.
I did a tiny bit of indulging before Christmas. I had one night out during which I realised that I like my colleagues a lot - even enough to stay out drinking till 1:30 am with them... but after that I was tired. I picked up a cold which has now manifested into a lovely green chest infection and I am done with over- indulging. Christmas for me has been a time of getting together with family, a fairly modest meal with my mum and dad and another one with the Rodgers clan before retiring gracefully into a coughing heap of flegm and relaxation from which I see little return over the next week. I am, in a word, fooked.
It's greedy to imagine that any new me will continue. I have had a new me all year. Courtesy of our lovely nhs service who perceptively diagnosed that for 24 years, the contraceptive pill has been ruining my health. Having escaped out of the other end of a near-miss illness I have been improving in ever-lasting cycles, not sure entirely how long it will last. Turns out, until Christmas.
The cold has charmed its way into my chest and left it rumbling like a cauldron overflowing with the green stuff. Amazingly it is the first time I have been ill all winter which makes me happy, although I could have done with it holding off until after Ripley cyclocross and the nationals, quite nicely if you pretty please. But it's not worth me sweating it, I am ill and that is that. Please don't tell me I will be well rested because I just came out of a rest period. I am just going to be weedy and aerobically screwed when I come out of this. I think the national championship race is going to be about me finishing which, for the first time ever, will be an improvement on last year when my calf muscle locked into a tiny ball like a baby hedgehog and refused to come out, leaving me with a 1st time ever DNF.
So, looking forward short term is no fun. Looking forward longer term is indecisive still. It is difficult to get excited about committing to a long term goal while feeling like death on toast, when short, involuntary whimpers emit from my throat when I move. But a long distance bike rally in Southern Europe is somewhat driving my ambitions once I can get off the sofa.
I have read and explored more deeply into my yoga practice this year and am hungry to develop. Clarity, focus and meanings sneak into everyday corners of my life where before there was an empty void.
This is why I won't be looking forward in 2016. Last year I trained without planning it and I can't see next year being that much different. I set out with two goals in mind - to have fun and to keep doing it. I ended up within a whisker of an age grouper's place on team GB and incredibly proud of myself for doing so. The cyclo-cross season has gone equally well with fifth and sixth place finishes in national events and I still feel there's so much more I have to offer... if I can just shake the flu.
So here it is, my one bout of belly-button gazing for 2015...
 |
| Remember when it used to snow in England in winter? Well, Glyn Hopkins came out for a play in the snow with me. |
 |
| After dining out on English snow we went to Austria for some more. |
 |
| I think I hibernated in March but we had some nice sky. |
 |
| As the days got lighter in April, I was on site in Kent and Bird-watching became a side-effect of my running addiction. |
 |
| All that running put me in good stead for the surprisingly sunny Whinlatter Extreme Duathlon in April where an 18 mile MTB warm up was suddenly a real thing. |
 |
| In May, the weather took a turn for the worse and whilst away with Norton Wheelers we took a beating in the hills in the pouring rain before retreating to the sanctity (if you can call it that) of High Force, before indulging in a rest-day of shopping and driving... what a pair of old biddies? |
 |
| In May we said an emotional (two fingers salute) goodbye to the Vanu and hello to the tipi... |
 |
| ...which we used to its full effect. |
 |
| The roads in Wales were kind to me for the Triathlon season |
 |
| In July we experienced similar fair weather for excursions on bike, foot and in wetsuit around the Scottish Highlands. |
 |
| August saw a visit from royalty |
 |
| and I had the opportunity to race the Tri relays with this motley crew before the big race in September - the Bala Triathlon - took me to some proper mountain scenery after an indulgent few days of luxurious recovery. |
 |
| My last happy rides with Phoenix before she retired from competitive cyclo-cross |
 |
| At the end of September, I was very proud to make it onto the podium for the 3 Peaks cyclo-cross for all the wrong reasons. My dad, riding his 40th race should have been decorated with some kind of medal so far as most of us were concerned. However, the race organisers chose to ignore such an accomplishment and instead were forced to award us the second father-daughter prize, narrowly beating an 85 year old and his 50 year old daughter. |
 |
| In October, Dirty Beast made it into my life. |
 |
| And a new programme of evening cyclo-cross and mountain bike rides started to make things happen in the racing world. |
 |
| including the advent of husband-racing in our family. Rapha, providing a brilliant event for us both to enjoy. |
 |
| Yet in amongst the cyclo-cross, we took some time out and did a bit of roofbox-tipi-stove (this has totally become a thing) camping in the Lake District. |
 |
| November also took us to the South East twice in two weeks to catch up with this fella in the dirty... |
 |
| ...and slightly cleaner, with his new wife in early December. |
 |
| December, is not recognisable as such. |
As I've written above, December has seen me faltering, clinging on to the last edges of the will to train, compete and repeat. Recovery is getting slower, enthusiasm waning. A symptom of my disease or it's cause? Who knows? My running has suffered, my swimming clings on to the feathery edges of possible. It is like I am suffering March's downfall early. Maybe by coming out of it early, I'll be stronger next year but since we're not looking forwards, we are only concerned with today, let's not fret that.
Today I swam. I swam a hearty 20 lengths of a 50m pool in rounds of 300m which, considering I've been swimming 200m rounds, I am happy with. I was not entirely annihilated by the youth of Guildford, in fact I held my own in the fast lane. My breathing held up OK, given that I didn't need to use my nose and no-one seemed to mind the orca-style distress calls which occasionally uttered from my lungs so eloquently, so involuntary.
So, I return to finish this post with a renewed air of invincibility and jam-packed with insane ideas for 2016.
A happy new year to everyone. I plan to spend mine nursing my breathing system, resting my body still further and hoping, above all hopes, that some muscle has grown out of the turkey dinner consumed heartily on Friday night.
Saturday, December 12, 2015
Swim Number 2
Swim number 2 was notable because of its weirdness, its nonconformity and a valuable lesson in just getting on with it.
Starting with small gains, after a full week of rest I managed to walk to swimming this week. If I count that as the run I would also like to be able to do on a Saturday in 10 weeks time then yay... but this is Bradford week so we are resting so it is a walk.
Half way there I realised I forgot my swimming watch. It crossed my mind to go back but decided I could count to 6 often enough to survive without.
The pool was rigged for children's class when I arrived with only 2 lanes set aside for swimmers but only 4 people in. The shallow end was then partly closed for the little ones leaving swimmers about 25m to swim in. This was going to be interesting for my times but then I had no idea how long the length was and no swim watch anyway. I reminded myself it was too early to worry about times.
At least this session I didn't have to worry about pace. The bipper stuck at 55 and I had to flip between slowing to make it and pushing myself to keep up towards the end of the set.
The first 6 lengths were OK and I decided to make it sets of 8. I can count to 4 reasonably reliably. Being on a short length, I figured 5 sets would see me through to 40 which would be less than last week so like a rest really. Unfortunately I forgot I only planned to do 750m or 30 lengths and I still had to battle with the turn around at the shallow end.
The only way to tackle the turn around was to paddle in a semicircle under the water with my right arm while stroking above the surface with my left. After I did that 3 times I resorted to an elaborate figure of 8 turnaround so my left arm could have a go. Much swearing, spluttering and protest from the less dextrous arm.
The last 8 were so damn hard. It's been a long swim break. My arch dive under water was celebratory in nature. It should have been a shorter swim but it wasn't and, paddling pool aside, I really enjoyed it. I stood in the shower for a long time.
Unfortunately I then went and did a hard yoga set before walking home, stopping in the appliance store to order a new washing machine. Finally, after a 1:45pm lunch, I fell asleep on the sofa and woke up at 3:45.
It was kind of a rest day.
Starting with small gains, after a full week of rest I managed to walk to swimming this week. If I count that as the run I would also like to be able to do on a Saturday in 10 weeks time then yay... but this is Bradford week so we are resting so it is a walk.
Half way there I realised I forgot my swimming watch. It crossed my mind to go back but decided I could count to 6 often enough to survive without.
The pool was rigged for children's class when I arrived with only 2 lanes set aside for swimmers but only 4 people in. The shallow end was then partly closed for the little ones leaving swimmers about 25m to swim in. This was going to be interesting for my times but then I had no idea how long the length was and no swim watch anyway. I reminded myself it was too early to worry about times.
At least this session I didn't have to worry about pace. The bipper stuck at 55 and I had to flip between slowing to make it and pushing myself to keep up towards the end of the set.
The first 6 lengths were OK and I decided to make it sets of 8. I can count to 4 reasonably reliably. Being on a short length, I figured 5 sets would see me through to 40 which would be less than last week so like a rest really. Unfortunately I forgot I only planned to do 750m or 30 lengths and I still had to battle with the turn around at the shallow end.
The only way to tackle the turn around was to paddle in a semicircle under the water with my right arm while stroking above the surface with my left. After I did that 3 times I resorted to an elaborate figure of 8 turnaround so my left arm could have a go. Much swearing, spluttering and protest from the less dextrous arm.
The last 8 were so damn hard. It's been a long swim break. My arch dive under water was celebratory in nature. It should have been a shorter swim but it wasn't and, paddling pool aside, I really enjoyed it. I stood in the shower for a long time.
Unfortunately I then went and did a hard yoga set before walking home, stopping in the appliance store to order a new washing machine. Finally, after a 1:45pm lunch, I fell asleep on the sofa and woke up at 3:45.
It was kind of a rest day.
Sunday, December 06, 2015
"First Swim Back" Kicks Off Deliberations
The "first swim back" is bloggable. Eventually after a few swims, all of the lengths merge into one endless churn of white and blue tiles sliding by the face. Of accidental punches and kicks, breathed-in water and drenching recovery showers.
I have swum twice now this winter although yesterday's swim marks a change - a move into Triathlon training again, the "start of the season". There will be another... and another...
I didn't feel like doing anything. I put laundry on, read a book, got my stuff together then decided to sit with the laundry as my washing machine's bearings are failing and I don't want it to burn the house down so I washed two of my bikes and waited.
Finally, at swim time, I didn't even feel like the walk over to the pool in the howling gales that have whipped the UK so I jumped in the car and drove there. 5 minutes, not 30 minutes later, I was signing in and attempting to get a 20p change out of a fiver from a surly desk clerk who made me wait for a cash-buyer so she could "get into the till". It would've been faster to walk back to the car and a supply of 3 x 20ps. Oh well, you have to forget something at your first trip back.
I sat for a long time on the side of the pool, faffing with my hat and my bipper (which I reduced to beep at 50 strokes per minute), still not interested in getting into the cold water. Relieved that when I finally did, it was only my shoulders that felt the cold. The pool was generally OK but they were trying to cool it down and at the end of every lap, a stream of chilled water washed over my hands at the turn-around. A little disconcerting and made it difficult to rest at the end of laps, in the stream of icy fluid. Quite authentic open water training though.
I churned out 6 laps (around 200m) to warm up then adjusted my bipper back up to 54 spm. Another 6 laps.
The 30seconds rest at the end of every 6 laps was welcome and gradually crept up to 1 minute in the end. I have lost all of my swimming endurance. I promised myself I'd only do 30 laps today and set about working out what that is in real money now that I am swimming in a 33m long pool instead of a 25m long pool. About 40 lengths. That will do. I normally "come back" to 45 lengths and didn't want to push myself too hard. This is, after all, about getting a good, easy base.
I put the bipper up to 56spm and quickly got out of breath trying to stick to it. Finally, I had found my starting number. No need to up the speed just yet. I settled on 55 spm for the next lap which felt slow at the beginning but I had to work at in the middle and at the end of the 6 laps, I just forgot about it... I need to work on that.
It was getting near the end of my session already - in fact I had only one set of 6 laps to go. I felt like doing more when I set off. The 55spm bipper was just right. Perhaps I could do 10 more!? After 5 though, I could feel it and glided down to the bottom of the pool. Went to stop my watch and realised I had hit the magic 30 laps and some (32 in the end).
Slow beginnings. I made myself get out.
Walking down the steps to the showers, I had a bit of a wobble. What is this sensation? Oh yes, fatigue! I grabbed my stuff and put the shower on full blast. I stood for a good while, just letting the water wash over my hair and face and the heat soak into my skin and muscles. It took me while to get a wash.
In the changing rooms I had a chat with a lady who made me think of Fly Lillypad. She was busy with her teenage daughter and father and stressed and trying to stay healthy and, most of all was very sweary. She made me laugh and I wished her well for her journey down to Coventry to visit her dad and hoped I would see her again.
I walked up to the car, flushed with happiness. I roared around town for a while, doing some shopping for the weekend and changing a pin number on a new card. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find an HSBC cash machine that isnt' behind closed doors with parking in Sheffield?
Back at home I excitedly downloaded my new swim onto my computer and set about searching for Triathlons for this year. All of the ones I am interested in seem to have clustered in an ungainly way around the same days of the year. I wondered about trying to qualify again for some championship races. Interestingly, one of the qualifying races this year is on the same day as this years championships leaving the other two as the ones that all the fast people will do. As I don't want to travel down to the South, that leaves me with Tri Liverpool. Bizarely, my best run this year after a hard and windy bike course. I enjoyed Tri Liverpool but mostly because of staying with Glyn in NlW, a house he no longer has.
I needed more.
I had a look at Ironman races and I had a look at Challenge Galway which was tempting but then I looked at the "city centre run route" and could think of nothing worse. I had an internal debate with myself about whether I really do want to go long again. Then I remembered the loss of focus to my training last year. Sure, the lure of doing well was there, the "never say no" approach worked but did I swim enough? No. Did I bike enough - Not really. My running got better - that was it.
Do I like training long? Yes, actually I do. A long run should only take 4 hours at the most. OK. The bike training takes up a bit more time. I settled on a choice of two races. I didn't have the guts to click the enter button. I settled for a period of sustained planning and taking a little time to decide if I want to commit to this again.
Last year was fun but boy! Did I miss long training? (yes).
I have swum twice now this winter although yesterday's swim marks a change - a move into Triathlon training again, the "start of the season". There will be another... and another...
I didn't feel like doing anything. I put laundry on, read a book, got my stuff together then decided to sit with the laundry as my washing machine's bearings are failing and I don't want it to burn the house down so I washed two of my bikes and waited.
Finally, at swim time, I didn't even feel like the walk over to the pool in the howling gales that have whipped the UK so I jumped in the car and drove there. 5 minutes, not 30 minutes later, I was signing in and attempting to get a 20p change out of a fiver from a surly desk clerk who made me wait for a cash-buyer so she could "get into the till". It would've been faster to walk back to the car and a supply of 3 x 20ps. Oh well, you have to forget something at your first trip back.
I sat for a long time on the side of the pool, faffing with my hat and my bipper (which I reduced to beep at 50 strokes per minute), still not interested in getting into the cold water. Relieved that when I finally did, it was only my shoulders that felt the cold. The pool was generally OK but they were trying to cool it down and at the end of every lap, a stream of chilled water washed over my hands at the turn-around. A little disconcerting and made it difficult to rest at the end of laps, in the stream of icy fluid. Quite authentic open water training though.
I churned out 6 laps (around 200m) to warm up then adjusted my bipper back up to 54 spm. Another 6 laps.
The 30seconds rest at the end of every 6 laps was welcome and gradually crept up to 1 minute in the end. I have lost all of my swimming endurance. I promised myself I'd only do 30 laps today and set about working out what that is in real money now that I am swimming in a 33m long pool instead of a 25m long pool. About 40 lengths. That will do. I normally "come back" to 45 lengths and didn't want to push myself too hard. This is, after all, about getting a good, easy base.
I put the bipper up to 56spm and quickly got out of breath trying to stick to it. Finally, I had found my starting number. No need to up the speed just yet. I settled on 55 spm for the next lap which felt slow at the beginning but I had to work at in the middle and at the end of the 6 laps, I just forgot about it... I need to work on that.
It was getting near the end of my session already - in fact I had only one set of 6 laps to go. I felt like doing more when I set off. The 55spm bipper was just right. Perhaps I could do 10 more!? After 5 though, I could feel it and glided down to the bottom of the pool. Went to stop my watch and realised I had hit the magic 30 laps and some (32 in the end).
Slow beginnings. I made myself get out.
Walking down the steps to the showers, I had a bit of a wobble. What is this sensation? Oh yes, fatigue! I grabbed my stuff and put the shower on full blast. I stood for a good while, just letting the water wash over my hair and face and the heat soak into my skin and muscles. It took me while to get a wash.
In the changing rooms I had a chat with a lady who made me think of Fly Lillypad. She was busy with her teenage daughter and father and stressed and trying to stay healthy and, most of all was very sweary. She made me laugh and I wished her well for her journey down to Coventry to visit her dad and hoped I would see her again.
I walked up to the car, flushed with happiness. I roared around town for a while, doing some shopping for the weekend and changing a pin number on a new card. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to find an HSBC cash machine that isnt' behind closed doors with parking in Sheffield?
Back at home I excitedly downloaded my new swim onto my computer and set about searching for Triathlons for this year. All of the ones I am interested in seem to have clustered in an ungainly way around the same days of the year. I wondered about trying to qualify again for some championship races. Interestingly, one of the qualifying races this year is on the same day as this years championships leaving the other two as the ones that all the fast people will do. As I don't want to travel down to the South, that leaves me with Tri Liverpool. Bizarely, my best run this year after a hard and windy bike course. I enjoyed Tri Liverpool but mostly because of staying with Glyn in NlW, a house he no longer has.
I needed more.
I had a look at Ironman races and I had a look at Challenge Galway which was tempting but then I looked at the "city centre run route" and could think of nothing worse. I had an internal debate with myself about whether I really do want to go long again. Then I remembered the loss of focus to my training last year. Sure, the lure of doing well was there, the "never say no" approach worked but did I swim enough? No. Did I bike enough - Not really. My running got better - that was it.
Do I like training long? Yes, actually I do. A long run should only take 4 hours at the most. OK. The bike training takes up a bit more time. I settled on a choice of two races. I didn't have the guts to click the enter button. I settled for a period of sustained planning and taking a little time to decide if I want to commit to this again.
Last year was fun but boy! Did I miss long training? (yes).
Friday, February 20, 2015
Next item on the agenda - swimming
I have finally made it to my new pool. I joined 2 weeks ago when we returned from holiday only to contract the lurgy. The last few days have been a mishmash of trying to get up in time to go, trying to finish work early enough to go or trying to have the energy to go somewhere new, find out where everything goes and find out what is good and what is bad.
I admit I was a bit dubious about it. I consider Ponds Forge to be such a great international facility and I signed up for 3 months at the gym without even having tried the water. It felt a tad rash given that I don't do weights that often and with the best intentions, rarely get around to attending classes either.
Last night I got organised enough to write down the pool opening times, booked on a yoga class whilst I was at it and packed my swim kit.
Much to my surprise and in spite of my reluctance I assembled the correct quantity of 20p pieces to do parking and lockers and successfully made it there. The changing rooms were unnervingly busy but they lacked the pungent odour of Ponds Forge nappy suite or poorly cleaned loos. The paper dispenser in the toilets worked properly and there were lockers available despite the busy time.
I reached the poolside and set about changing my watch from a 50m pool to a 25m pool. As I did so it occurred to me just how pleasant it was sitting on the edge, partially submerged. It wasn't freezing cold! I'm not the neshest person in the world but I don't have much body fat so pf used to make me shiver quite a lot. I know some people like it that way because they swim faster than me but as far as I am concerned I sat on the edge of that pool thinking, "I think I'm gonna like it here".
In the water, I shared a lane with one man. To my absolute joy he was young, well built and I kicked his ass... though he wasn't so slow as to get in my way. We were polite to each other.
As I went about my laps in a relaxed manner (adaptation only) I took in my surroundings. One thing that stays constant in life is the architecture of swimming pool roofs. I must've spent more time than I remember here because the wave-shaped roof was so familiar to me. The lane markers weren't brilliantly clear but unlike pf the tiles were close to me and large enough to follow so I had no navigation issues. The water was perfectly clear, not like the horribly cloudy conditions of Concord Leisure where I am reduced to swim on a weekend when of is closed for competitions.
After 14 laps I stopped for a rest. I had already decided to aim for only 30 so as not to overdo it. I rested for a minute. In retrospect the sides aren't easy to hold onto so in future I will rest at the shallow end. (When swimming widths at PF there is no shallow end).
I set off again, still out-swimming my companion but he sat on my feet in between rests. Just as I started to feel tired, like I was ready to quit I found I had done 10 and only had 6 to go to hit my target. As I started them I did a bit of maths that if it was true that this was a 33m pool I would have nailed my May race distance. It wouldn't be fast or pretty but a great motivator.
Sure enough, having checked with the lifeguard, the stats were in and I was overjoyed. I headed off for a gushing hot shower, infinitely better than ponds forge, in a very good mood.
I admit I was a bit dubious about it. I consider Ponds Forge to be such a great international facility and I signed up for 3 months at the gym without even having tried the water. It felt a tad rash given that I don't do weights that often and with the best intentions, rarely get around to attending classes either.
Last night I got organised enough to write down the pool opening times, booked on a yoga class whilst I was at it and packed my swim kit.
Much to my surprise and in spite of my reluctance I assembled the correct quantity of 20p pieces to do parking and lockers and successfully made it there. The changing rooms were unnervingly busy but they lacked the pungent odour of Ponds Forge nappy suite or poorly cleaned loos. The paper dispenser in the toilets worked properly and there were lockers available despite the busy time.
I reached the poolside and set about changing my watch from a 50m pool to a 25m pool. As I did so it occurred to me just how pleasant it was sitting on the edge, partially submerged. It wasn't freezing cold! I'm not the neshest person in the world but I don't have much body fat so pf used to make me shiver quite a lot. I know some people like it that way because they swim faster than me but as far as I am concerned I sat on the edge of that pool thinking, "I think I'm gonna like it here".
In the water, I shared a lane with one man. To my absolute joy he was young, well built and I kicked his ass... though he wasn't so slow as to get in my way. We were polite to each other.
As I went about my laps in a relaxed manner (adaptation only) I took in my surroundings. One thing that stays constant in life is the architecture of swimming pool roofs. I must've spent more time than I remember here because the wave-shaped roof was so familiar to me. The lane markers weren't brilliantly clear but unlike pf the tiles were close to me and large enough to follow so I had no navigation issues. The water was perfectly clear, not like the horribly cloudy conditions of Concord Leisure where I am reduced to swim on a weekend when of is closed for competitions.
After 14 laps I stopped for a rest. I had already decided to aim for only 30 so as not to overdo it. I rested for a minute. In retrospect the sides aren't easy to hold onto so in future I will rest at the shallow end. (When swimming widths at PF there is no shallow end).
I set off again, still out-swimming my companion but he sat on my feet in between rests. Just as I started to feel tired, like I was ready to quit I found I had done 10 and only had 6 to go to hit my target. As I started them I did a bit of maths that if it was true that this was a 33m pool I would have nailed my May race distance. It wouldn't be fast or pretty but a great motivator.
Sure enough, having checked with the lifeguard, the stats were in and I was overjoyed. I headed off for a gushing hot shower, infinitely better than ponds forge, in a very good mood.
Tuesday, December 02, 2014
Bloody Fu.
It was weird going to Jessops hospital not pregnant. Not that I've ever been there pregnant but that is mostly what Jessops hospital is for.
There's no bike parking at Jessops, I suppose only a few women cycle to Jessops... like Jo Jebb for example.
"So" said the doctor, "Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, how long do you bleed like this for??" as he shone a torch up my fufu.
My thoughts exactly. Any guesses why I am anaemic?
He did some stuff which was quite painful and I left in a tiz. Getting on a bike was exactly what I wanted to do to take my mind off it... and eat food once I got to work as it was 12:00.
I had an unproductive day. I think the most productive thing was making a cup of tea... and eating my iron tablet.
I cycled home and remembered that I meant to go to the pool. So I happily stormed through 4+4+2+4+4+2+2+4+2+4=26 x 50m lengths with some resting and rode home easy via the polo court. It wasn't bad for a day I've been dreading since I got the appointment two months ago.
There's no bike parking at Jessops, I suppose only a few women cycle to Jessops... like Jo Jebb for example.
"So" said the doctor, "Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, how long do you bleed like this for??" as he shone a torch up my fufu.
My thoughts exactly. Any guesses why I am anaemic?
He did some stuff which was quite painful and I left in a tiz. Getting on a bike was exactly what I wanted to do to take my mind off it... and eat food once I got to work as it was 12:00.
I had an unproductive day. I think the most productive thing was making a cup of tea... and eating my iron tablet.
I cycled home and remembered that I meant to go to the pool. So I happily stormed through 4+4+2+4+4+2+2+4+2+4=26 x 50m lengths with some resting and rode home easy via the polo court. It wasn't bad for a day I've been dreading since I got the appointment two months ago.
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
Mock me
Such hard work going swimming this morning after strength training yesterday. Got a niggling groin pain still but otherwise a good kind of tired.
Only 40 lengths at the pool. Washed down with a film Mocking Jay tonight. Brilliant date.
Only 40 lengths at the pool. Washed down with a film Mocking Jay tonight. Brilliant date.
Thursday, November 07, 2013
Back in the Pond
Finally made it back to the pool this morning. In contrast to usual post-break slopping about for 40 laps then leaving exhausted, I churned out 58 lengths without thinking about it. It was slow - 34 minutes - but no problems with endurance.
That secured my decision to enter yet another long race and spent the rest of the day a little bit excited.
That secured my decision to enter yet another long race and spent the rest of the day a little bit excited.
Monday, May 06, 2013
First amazing day of 2013
Finally I have managed to achieve an ironman training programme weekend swim - bike day. Ponds Forge was open on Sunday morning and, knowing I have Monday to do the run, I committed to making Saturday a rest day.
Sunday morning swimming was fantabulous. 50m pool, lane to myself, Swimathon going on in the next lanes so an atmosphere to die for. 3km flew by. I felt like I took it easy but actually shaved 3 minutes off my last 3km swim time.
Went home and picked up Mr Rodgers to head out on the bikes in shorts and short sleeve jerseys. Finally!
We went to Spoilt for Choice for lunch then up Ringinglow and down Froggatt for desert.
A few hours of pottering around Alport, Youlegreave and the edges of Moneyash then headed over to Matlock Bath for coffee and cake. It was heaving with bikers and families eating chips and icecream so we headed on to Matlock itself and resorted to Costa Coffee take away in the park, sitting among the flower beds.
I've done most things on bikes now - mountain biking, cyclo-cross, road racing, time trials. I've even had a go at bike polo - briefly - but never until today have I herded sheep. Sheep stuck on the outside of the Chatsworth estate fence, distressed lambs on the other side, I herded the sheep to the cattle grid (thanks to the patient vehicles waiting) then watched in wonderment as they carefully picked their way across the cattle grid and back to safety. So much for animal control but then it is a "cattle" grid. We overtook A LOT of traffic through Baslow. Never have I less wanted to be in a car as we, and a father and son cycled group freely on the right hand side of the road, only occasionally pulling over for the motorists who got fed up and turned around to take a different route.
On the descent to Sheffield I learned something new about my bottle mount behind my saddle - and that's not to bunny hop the bike whilst doing 38 miles an hour and carrying a litre of water in the back. Thankfully the drivers seemed impervious to my thrashing water bottle and, after I figured out what I'd lost, I was able to rescue it from the drain on the other side of the road.
We got home with 67 miles on the clock and 1400m climbing.
After my 15 minute brick run which left me feeling like I'd "just got going", it took me about 15 seconds to feel like I was, "just about done".
Only one thing left to do and that's look forwards to running 13 miles tomorrow.
Sunday morning swimming was fantabulous. 50m pool, lane to myself, Swimathon going on in the next lanes so an atmosphere to die for. 3km flew by. I felt like I took it easy but actually shaved 3 minutes off my last 3km swim time.
Went home and picked up Mr Rodgers to head out on the bikes in shorts and short sleeve jerseys. Finally!
We went to Spoilt for Choice for lunch then up Ringinglow and down Froggatt for desert.
A few hours of pottering around Alport, Youlegreave and the edges of Moneyash then headed over to Matlock Bath for coffee and cake. It was heaving with bikers and families eating chips and icecream so we headed on to Matlock itself and resorted to Costa Coffee take away in the park, sitting among the flower beds.
I've done most things on bikes now - mountain biking, cyclo-cross, road racing, time trials. I've even had a go at bike polo - briefly - but never until today have I herded sheep. Sheep stuck on the outside of the Chatsworth estate fence, distressed lambs on the other side, I herded the sheep to the cattle grid (thanks to the patient vehicles waiting) then watched in wonderment as they carefully picked their way across the cattle grid and back to safety. So much for animal control but then it is a "cattle" grid. We overtook A LOT of traffic through Baslow. Never have I less wanted to be in a car as we, and a father and son cycled group freely on the right hand side of the road, only occasionally pulling over for the motorists who got fed up and turned around to take a different route.
On the descent to Sheffield I learned something new about my bottle mount behind my saddle - and that's not to bunny hop the bike whilst doing 38 miles an hour and carrying a litre of water in the back. Thankfully the drivers seemed impervious to my thrashing water bottle and, after I figured out what I'd lost, I was able to rescue it from the drain on the other side of the road.
We got home with 67 miles on the clock and 1400m climbing.
After my 15 minute brick run which left me feeling like I'd "just got going", it took me about 15 seconds to feel like I was, "just about done".
Only one thing left to do and that's look forwards to running 13 miles tomorrow.
Monday, April 22, 2013
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
Swimmy days
I effectively had a day off Thursday so on Monday I chose to catch up on the weekend swim that I missed. 2km. It hurt a lot at first because my shoulders had spent all day Saturday poling through the snow. However, I warmed up, took it steady and before you know it, 80 laps were in the bag and I was able to go off to East Anglia - the North Norfolk coast to be precise. That took me 6 hours so, by 4pm I was ready for a damn good sleep.
Now, to get on with this week's training.
The Norfolk project had a bit of a setback on Tuesday - largely due to me cancelling a crane lift because it was too windy to lift anything.
No-one liked it which pissed me off.
I very nearly walked away from site I was so angry. What a waste of my time. I stewed in my anger until I was able to leave site at 12:00. This time, at least, it only took me 4.5 hours to get back home and so I headed for the pool of course. Thank god it's an easy week this week, so 35 hours after my last swim I headed to Ponds Forge and stretched another 30 laps of the 50m pool out of my arms.
It was blissfully quiet and so I even managed my 800m timetrial that has been on the books for so long.
800m was a nice milestone to hit because I spent the next few laps calculating that at that speed I could nail the ironman swim distance in 1:03. A nice dream.
After 1500m I felt so good I was able to haul myself out of the poolside onto the dive platform. It wasn't pretty and I probably won't do it again but it felt satisfying.
Sofa time.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Have to swim... have to.
Too cold and too out-of-bed-too-late to swim. Cycled yesterday. Hate the shuttle bus to site from the car park. Solution - drive, run, take swim stuff.
On the drive I peered down each street to figure out which to take for the beach access. My plan was to run to the site then overshoot to do the extra 5.6kms I needed to make up 11km.
Of course I couldn't resist turning off the first lane to get off-road. It stretched out straight ahead for 500m then turned 90° the wrong way. When I reached the zag that went with the zig there were signs forbidding my entry into what looked like an old RAF base that had been ruthlessly occupied by old ladies. The only thing that kept me going was the tempting church and lighthouse on the horizon.
I reluctantly followed the footpath markers instead of following my intended direction. The lighthouse obliged, getting closer until I was able to use the luxurious facilities before continuing. Aged tourist population is obviously good for something.
I hoped I would be able to access the beach by now but instead I had to continue along the top of the cliffs as they were steep and crumbling. A person sat in a shack called "The Happisburgh Coastal Lookout", peering between a monocular and a laptop screen. I dared not wave in case I still wasn't supposed to be there.
Perhaps the caravan park would offer a route onto the beach? Unfortunately, it seemed that many of the caravan pitches had followed the cliffs seaward and I ended up running up the camp site road to put clearance between me and the crumbling tarmac edge. I followed a dog walkers path through the touring site and finally found a sign for beach access.
I checked the Garmin. 4.85km! I still had to make ground along the beach just to get parallel with where I'd left Maurice the Audi. Then do the extra 4km to site.
The sign at the top of the path warned that "A lot of concrete and metalwork had been removed from the beach. More will become exposed over time and removed from time to time". Need to keep my eyes open then.
For a moment I thought I was going to be foiled by more excessive boudler-works to protect the sea. There was, however, a clear route along the bottom of the cliffs - exposed steelwork, concrete (what looked like the remains of outfall pumping stations) and brickwork - remains of houses washed away by the ocean? - all in abundance.
I finally picked my way through all the debris onto open sand with only the sea crashing against the breakwater to keep me company.
 |
| Stones lodged in the breakwaters - above: new (Wooden) and below: old (rusty steel tubes filled with concrete) |
Finally I reached the next run of caravan parks with all steps leading to (more) "PRIVATE" signs on gates so I dropped of the sea wall, safe in the knowledge that we don't yet have much privatisation of beaches in the UK.
 |
| Finally, my off-ramp to start my working day |
Only one thing finished off the day as well as it started. This, spotted on the back of a street sign in Cromer.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)