Does this make my tannenbaum look big?

It's twenty minutes to nine.

Sunday morning has arrived.

Race day.

Three days earlier, the weekends weather forecast was severe to the point that it was announced there would be no swim. Gatorade race 2 was to be a duathlon. In my 5 seasons of multisport I have completed probably 5 or 6 duathlons, I have only ever signed up for one. I am not a fan*.
Fast forward and I'm standing on the beach, the expected rains and storms have not been seen and the race has been restored to its full triathlon format. As I survey the water I'm undecided if I'm happy that the swim was returned. To quote George Costanza - "the sea was angry that day...
Today I'm giving the elite group an 25 minute head-start before attacking that swell and shortly after the horn blows I'm in the churning waters fighting for position and a clean breath of air as I try to sight the buoys over the crest of each wave. It is hard going, fortunately, I'm wearing a dress.

Race 2 of the series has always been the "Christmas" race as it is the last event for the year and an opportunity to get into the holiday spirit. For the past 2 years I have jumped on board this train and raced with increasing themed decoration on my kit. It's a bit of fun and it's not hard to join in and add some colour to the race. (it also doesn't hurt that a Garmin GPS watch has been up for grabs!) The first time I added some tinsel to my bike and wore jingle bells on a race belt for the event. This was too subtle as I was not nominated for the award. Last year I stepped up my game and, along with the tinsel and jingle bells I had a green and red coloured mo-hawk and a Santa's Elf had affixed to my helmet. This gained me a spot on the Christmas Spirit podium, but the result was equal second. Today I had tinseled my bike, Santa's hat became and "aero" extension of my helmet, the bells replaced with an MP3 player and portable speaker, mohawk again coloured but the secret weapon in the arsenal was the Santa's outfit i was wearing under the wetsuit. Two years ago, a guy had claimed the prize by wearing a full Santa suit, not one to follow convention I went for something a little different.

Exiting the water and running up the concrete ramp off the beach I heard the cry "Show us the dress!"

Arms quickly out of the sleeves still on the move, I pull the wetsuit off my shoulders and down to my waist to reveal the bodice of my Mrs Clause dress.

Transition 1 is a little slow as I dedicate a little time into getting the race belt mounted MP3 player to kick into action - no luck, so I leave transition with my speaker stubbornly silent

Now, people spend many hundreds of dollars on specially shaped aero race helmets, their tear drop shape delivering an advantage in the battle against the wind resistance. I spent $2 on a felt Santa  hat, shaped it with some card, stuffed it with soft toy filling and used fishing line the 'sew' it to the back of my regular helmet. From experience I can now say, with confidence, they were right.
The strong winds that made the swim difficult were now catching my hat and a few times I had to fight harder to keep the bike running straight. Whether it was the extra drag created by the dress (pardon the pun), or the 3+ hour windtrainer session from yesterday, I found I wasn't passing nearly as many bikes as normal.

Two laps complete, bike racked. A much faster transition and the opportunity to investigate the technical glitch from T1 without needing to stop meant I was finally able to complete the get the Christmas music playing. I left T2 running well, tassels flying and "we wish you a Merry Christmas" pumping out in my wake. I like to look for the silver lining in things and today I found this; on the occasion of having a slower than normal cycle leg there is greater opportunity to chase down and pass people on the run. I am quite used to blasting through the bike, only to watch a good majority of my category pass me in the closing stage. Today the roles were reversed to a certain degree as I noted I was running down and overtaking more competitors than usual, and I was doing so with a fur lined felt dress. That was just a bit fun!

The entire race was punctuated with shouts of support, "Go Santa", thumbs ups, and the occasional surprised exclamation as people realised they had been "passed by Santa". At one point on the bike I heard the one of the official's motorbikes rolling up from behind. I had been trying to overtake a couple of bikes but backed off so as not to block the race referee. As he got up level to me I noticed he was speaking to me, crap, did I just score my first ever penalty for not completing the pass in time!?
Nope, just having a quick chat and wishing me a good race.

1 hour 18 and change was a bit slower than the first race of the series, however, given the conditions and the wardrobe choice, I reckon that was a pretty good result.

After the race and during the presentations the "Christmas Spirit" entrants were asked to come to the stage. There were two of us who came forward and I must admit, she looked better in the Santa dress yet she conceded defeat before coming on stage. After 3 years of trying but seeing others claim the Garmin prize, this time it was mine! And as they awarded me the winner's Christmas cake in place of a watch I thought, at least it was a fun day.




















*Though I'm not a fan of duathlons, I must admit, that time one and only time I signed up for and raced one I waked away with a $200 Polar heart rate monitor watch so I guess I shouldn't complain...

Journey's end

Seems I've been here before...

If memory serves, my first post to this blog was at a similar time. I have spent spent time today ignoring my immediate company and instead focused that period of attention to the screen on my phone. Today was "Busso" and my link to friends testing their skills, determination and force of will was contained within a 4.3" illuminated panel. About this time last year I was looking seriously at making this my first Ironman race. By all accounts, it was a great race in an awesome location with fantastic support from the local community, add to this, it would be my last opportunity to complete an IM before my 40th birthday - it seemed perfect!

Perfect until we realised that the scheduled race week would actually coincide with another important event. When the dates were confirmed, my plans took a back seat in favour a more important achievement, The Boy's primary school graduation. You see, this is a special occasion because The Boy has Autism and he is graduating from a main stream school and with the class group he started with.

As I watch the split times clock up on my phone of those I am following on the other side of the nation I know they are achieving a goal that was set some time ago. I am also watching a 12 year old boy talking to "Doc Brown" about his Deloriun (time machine) in detail at the Police family Christmas function and I know the milestones he has ticked off over time, though they are not readily viewed via an app. Countless hours of early intervention, socializing skills, occupational therapy, speech therapy have lead to this point. Throughout, he has been a trooper and worked tirelessly to exceed all expectations.

My big race is fast approaching and it is now that I, and those on the same path are beginning to ramp up our training levels. On my training calendar my weekend was to a 130km ride in the hills yesterday, and a 16km Sunday run. My social calender for this same pair of days included 2 Christmas family days, plus a bit of seasonal shopping. Having yet perfected the ability to be in 2 places at the same time, some compromises were required. The long ride through the picturesque hills of the Dandenongs became a  3.5 hour high gear / low cadence grind on the wind trainer (beginning at ridiculous o'clock in order to be off the bike and into family time on time). Sunday arrived and it was time to run, I guess I was still tired from the previous day as, for the first couple of km I was just struggling to get me breath. Pushing through this the next 4km were different, now I was pretty confident I was going to just throw up. There were thoughts at this point that, since I still fairly close to home I might just call it a day and turn for home. It didn't make sense to keep running away from home when it was obvious that today was not my day. Fortunately, there were also thoughts of those who would have been just climbing out of the water in Bussleton, a similar distance behind them and yet a long road ahead. Drawing inspiration from them, and The Boy at home I pressed on an eventually ran into some form and finally, began to run comfortably. It just took a while to get there, sometimes the good things just require a little extra perseverance.

By now, Ironman WA is in the books for another year, from what I hear, it was a very tough day for all of the competitors on the course. Those who wanted to claim their finisher's towel and medal were made to earn it.Congratulations to all who took on the challenge and pushed through to reach that finish line when things got difficult. And to The Boy who is also reaching his own finish line (sorry mate, now medal though), you all inspire the rest of us with your achievements!


Appendix
Today (Monday) was "Awards Day" at school and The Boy was presented with the ICT Award (computers and stuff) for the year, and was also a member of the Rounders team that won the Grand Final of the inter-school competition. Turns out, he did get his medal after all

The Boy is presented with the ICT Award for 2012

It's all about me

It's all about me!

Last weekend I went head to head against the Half Ironman course in Shepparton, the very same race that had me battling just to finish. This time around, it was me that came out victorious as I crossed that line and stopped the clock almost an hour sooner than ever before. There was much celebrations following my achievement as everyone made efforts to congratulate me.

Not one to rest on my laurels, I prepared for my next race. Something a bit different this time, Dragon Boat racing. As a member of a corporate team, and only the second time I'd actually been in one of these boats, we raced in 3 heats on Saturday. At the end of the qualification rounds, the Taladega Knights were undefeated and found ourselves into the first elimination round. When we crossed the line for the fourth time of the day we found we'd actually clocked our fastest time of the day! Unfortunately, three other boats also had a great race and we were out. We finished eighth out of 32 teams in our first ever hit out (we actually could have placed as high as fifth but the team declined to race the petite final in favour of heading to the pub) Another great day of racing were I celebrated my efforts.

One day later, I was back on the track, this time in more familiar conditions, for Race 1 of the SuperSprint Gatorade series. Again, today was all about me as, during the week I had been named the Pro For the Day recipient. Early on race morning I moved about the venue collecting free products from sponsors and congratulations from friends. My bike had been specially prepared, I had a separate space in transition with the other pros and there was a bit of paparazzi action as well.




Coming out of the water from the swim I heard my name called over the PA system as the commentators were following my progress and reporting it to the crowd. Felling pretty special, even as it was noted publicly that I was getting a "a little caught up in his <my> wetsuit". On the bike I quickly got down to business and noted how comfortable I was on the bike. This should not have been the case as I was on a brand new triathlon bike, bent over in an aggressive aero position that I had only received two days earlier and never actually ridden. I put this down to the care put into the brief bike fit that had been done for me when I picked it up.
It was all about me as I transitioned onto the run and accepted the cheers from friends on the track and from the sidelines. Even though I was supposed to be in the middle of a recovery period, had competed in a long course race, dragon boat rowing and now two thirds of a sprint triathlon, my legs were feeling fresh. When I passed under the inflated finishing arch in Catani Gardens I had clocked a sub 24 minute five km run. Another achievement of mine we celebrated

Yep, it's all about me
...And has been for some time now.

If that is the case, there's a very good reason that came in the form of a Kinder Surprise which I bought 17 years ago.
I was living in a small bed-sit apartment in Elwood with my brother and girlfriend. I had visited our local supermarket and bought one of those triple packs of Kinder Surprise eggs. I had been collecting the toys and, it had been a year since my girlfriend and I had gotten together. In the ultimate act of sharing I gave up my prize to her. I'm guessing she was rather surprised when she unwrapped the first one from the sealed box to find it contained an engagement ring instead of a toy.

Five years later, on this day, my girlfriend became my wife.

Our reception was held at the Elwood Sailing Club and was nearly a disaster. We'd been unable to get the cars across Beach Road to set up the venue because the road was closed. Some idiot had scheduled a triathlon on my wedding day!

Since that day my better half was denied a crappy plastic trinket we've had 2 special kids, many arguments, 4 addresses, and countless happy moments.
When we said our vows, I weighed roughly 130k and fairly happy on the couch. When I first decided to buy a bike to begin riding to work, it was she that supported this crazy idea. She also didn't mock when I decided to try a 10 km run, even though I hadn't done anything to indicate I was capable of doing it. When I decided I needed to be a part of Tri Alliance, she fully endorsed the decision, even though our budget didn't really allow it.
Since then, she has supported, encouraged and made every effort to make possible all of my athletic aspirations.

My wife has sacrificed a lot of time, many early mornings and a little of her sanity in following me as I reach for my goals. She has driven me to events, made round trips to training sessions to drop me off/pick me up, and has had to go out of her way to save "my sorry ass" when plans have gone awry (including one impromptu pick-up from Marysville one evening...). Last week, when it looked like I wasn't actually going to make the start line in Shepparton, it was my wife that was most upset.

So, as I approach the pinnacle of my adopted sport, if it appears that it is all about me, it's only because my wife makes it possible.

Thank you Jo-Ellen, today, it's all about us.

Shepparton 70.3 - The rematch

It's race day, Shepparton 70.3 is here.
We have risen before the sun, breakfasted, packed and hit the road early. My bike sits ready in transition, waiting it's turn to be unleashed, my mind is focussed, and my body is ready to rock, it's time for redemption.I have been waiting for this day for just over a year.
But, none of this matters because we are sitting on the side of the road, 35km away, the car is overheated and race I've been working towards for the past 12 months is slipping away as each minute passes.

You see, my first assault upon the Shepparton 70.3 course was less the spectacular. Back then I was overconfident, and ended up humbled by the third discipline. A failure to consume enough during the ride meant that a run off the bike was not going to happen. Barely a kilometre into the half marathon and it was over. I went from racing to surviving, no longer a battle against the course and myself but instead, against the final cut-off time limit. After three and three quarter hours of competing and nearly another three hours of enduring I crossed the finish line and collected my medal and finisher's towel, and also set my sights on finishing the race next time.

We've moved further up the road now, maybe another ten km before being halted again by that bastard dial on the dashboard. Normally it sits happily just below horizontal, however, today of all days, it has again risen sharply to the vicinity of 11-o-clock. Fortunately, we've arrived at a truck rest stop and I'm able to fill a couple of drink bottles with non-potable water. They will no longer be useful for keeping me hydrated, but the car instead. Unfortunately, you can't refill the radiator until the engine is fully cooled and we don't have nearly the time to wait - these bottles will only be used in the last resort.

Time is ticking away, the km are as well but not nearly as fast as I would like. Many other cars are passing us by as we limp along, all heading to the same destination. I try not to get caught looking at the clock on my phone, the wife is stressed enough and does not need to worry further. It is "only a race" I reassure her.

Finally, we arrive at the final intersection before the race venue, a quick scan off traffic ahead, lining up to enter this final stretch of road and we quickly realise, this would be one hurdle too many. There is no way the engine would survive that stop/start queue. U-turn and into the service lane and the car's job is done. Somehow, the wife has nursed the vehicle that whole way, whilst battling her fraying nerves to get us here. Now, it's up to me to repay that effort with some of my own. I had planned this day to be successful, now it has to be!

The hour I wanted to set up transition and chill out has been reduced to 15 minutes but this proves to be plenty as somehow I'm able to efficiently set everything up, re-inflate the tyres, set out my nutrition, sunscreen and even find time to offer advice to a fellow competitor. The journey here was long, and so too is the line for the bathroom. Luckily I find the "staff" facilities behind the registration tent before they realise non-staff members are using them!

Wetsuit on (it's been a while!) swim cap, goggles, bag dropped off and I'm in the water awaiting my wave start. Haven't even had time yet to be nervous.

Shepparton is an interesting place to swim, there is zero visibility below the waterline, and for roughly 40% of the swim it's the same above the waterline due to having to swim into the rising sun. I had seeded myself fairly aggressively in the middle of the pack and spent a good portion of the time fighting for my racing line. Messy as it got, I was able to hold a fairly steady stroke rate and exited the water in 42 minutes (a little slower than last year).

Onto the bike I quickly got down onto the aerobars and settled in. The screen on my Garmin displayed my cadence in large font. My plan was to maintain this value as close to 90 throughout whilst holding a medium/hard effort. Another field on the display was telling me that my speed was down (averaging 25km/h) but I was still passing more people than were overtaking me so I dismissed it as just being a tough day for everyone. Every 350 calories an alarm told me it was time to eat and I followed this instruction diligently. Mindful of the past, I was constantly leaning forward to sip from my hydration bottle and during the course of the ride I refilled it twice from the aide stations. Ironically, this diligence almost proved my undoing as one volunteers grip on the offered bottle was firmer than expected and when he failed to release it, my front wheel was pulled sharply to the left. A brief wobble and a sigh of relief the moment was past.

Toward the end of the cycle the questions began.

• Is that my leg beginning to tighten up? 
• Have I fuelled correctly this time? 
• Did I go out too hard again?
• Will the wife let me back into the car if I am forced to walk again this year?

Back into town, spinning an easy gear and feet out of the shoes I'm just hoping there are no nasty surprises lurking in my legs. Safety first, I dismount conservatively and well before the dismount line and run the bike into transition. That's right - run.

Bike racked again, running shoes on and food stuffed in the back pocket I'm ready to go. I'm hearing people calling out my name, the cheering seems to come from all sides and I'm running comfortably towards the lake and the start of the 3 laps. As soon as I hit the run course I see my name in chalk on the footpath and as I stride over it, I know this is going to be a good day.

I have my nutrition plan in mind and I stick to it, every aide station, grab a water - sip and tip over head, then grab a sports drink. Every second aide station, also grab a gel. Most importantly, this year I was able to enjoy it as well. So many familiar faces and, whenever possible I'd call out names, give and receive encouragement and I made sure I didn't miss any requested high-fives with the kids. 

Each time around the track the crowd was great and the volunteers were excellent.

Just over half way, my left calf begins to bite, a bit of a reoccurring issue I have. Backing of the pace and focussing on technique proves an adequate solution to manage it this time.

Before too long, I've collected my set three silicone bands and am able to turn right onto the red carpet to stop the clock.

A year ago, I had run this same stretch in pain, gritting my teeth against the threatening cramps shooting through my fuel starved muscles, this time I was jubilant. 

In the recovery tent I checked my watch for the numbers. Turns out I had actually averaged over 30km/h on the bike as that split was under 3 hours, and I had also broken 2 hours for the half marathon (a feat that took my 3 years to achieve in a stand-alone race) and, overall, I had beaten last year's time by almost an hour!

5:3.2:37

Shepp - 1; Me - 1

Next year must be the tie breaker I guess!

ps. got the car home with no further incident, slowly and with many a scheduled rest stop, and since, that temperature needle on the dash has not again strayed North of horizontal...

Going into the Red?

Scrolling through my Face Book feed and doing my best to soak up some of the excitement and atmosphere from the recently completed Noosa Triathlon. Though the race is over, the atmosphere is just beginning to escalate. From the numerous posts I can see several PBs were achieved, goals realised, a little gravel rash due to some wet roads and at least one who pushed their boundaries to complete the run course even  though injury prevented him from racing today. Amazing work every one, hopefully next year I won't have to rely on electronic means to share in the fun!

Reading about all of today's success leads me to thinking about my next dance. In the latest newsletter from Shepparton 70.3 it was announced that they will be handing out coloured wrist bands on the run course. There will be three bands, each of a different colour to signify the completion of all three laps. It might sound fickle, but I am really looking forward to collecting my set. This time, two weeks from now I'll either be celebrating or ...

I guess time will tell. 

In other news, there is a fun run I was planning on entering as part of the Movember fundraising this year. The Melbourne edition of the "Running of the Mo's" is the City2Surf and it's set for next Sunday. As I was completing my entry during the week I got to the section about expected run times where they delegate the wave starts. As I scrolled down the list of options I noted that, following the elite and preferred runner's starts was a group that required validation to enter. What's more, the time to beat to be eligible for this group even appeared achievable. 75 minutes for 14km, I'd done that once before during the Run4Kids a couple of years ago. And the qualification times listed for the half and full marathon distances were ones I had recently broken as well. Since none of my previous times were on their systems I had to send links to my official results and fill out a form to be granted access to the Red group. It was on Friday that I received my invitation to take a spot in the faster runners' wave start. Mixed emotions, proud to have earned my spot, worried that I may not be able to run on the day...

It seems that I have picked up a little niggle in my calf. As per usual, my injury has not come from some epic sporting achievement that would make for a great story, but instead, whilst doing the cool-down from an easy recovery run. (my last injury came from watching television...)

During the run my left calf began to tighten up, it's done this before and I can generally run through it. Thursday night was different though. On the home stretch, my calf finally seized up and my run was over.

Been here before though, a few days of recovery, compression, plenty of stretching and rolling and I should be right to hit the track again. Last time I suffered a calf strain my first tentative run after a week proved a complete recovery of the injured leg, however, the other calf went out instead. This time, I am focussing on not favouring my good leg to prevent a little deja vu.

Currently my leg is feeling pretty good and I am walking freely without much discomfort. I don't think my stride is being effected and it has given me no problems during cycling (I had been worried so my long ride this weekend was moved to the garage windtrainer so I didn't get stuck out on the road somewhere far from home) The plan is to reassess is a day or two to see if I need any treatment on it, and secondarily, whether I can run on it by Sunday. As much as I'd like to show my support for Movember and take the wave start I've earned, there is a little loop of coloured silicone that I mean to make my own, and that's waiting for me after around 110km of racing.

As it stands now, I'm not sure whether I'll do the run next weekend, and if I do, whether you'd find me in the Red Zone at the start line..

I guess time (and a pinch of common sense) will tell...

Noosa Baby!

This weekend, the triathon world revolves around one small stretch of coast land in Northern Queensland and one phrase is continually echoed over the various social media outlets:

Noosa Baby!

The massive festival, the warm weather and water temperatures that leave you wandering if your wetsuit will be required (or even legal to use) and the sheer spectacle of the thing is amazing - as I am lead to believe.
Unfortunately, with such a popular event, you need to be quick on the button to secure your spot, and you have to do this almost 12 months in advance. It also helps to have the entrance fee handy, this part was my downfall last year. Oh well, someone's got to keep the home fires burning! (especially when Melbourne turns on its cool charm)

So, news closer to home, the first race of my season is almost here. It doesn't seem too long ago I was filling out this dance card and the time has just flown by since. Yes, I have been pretty consistent with my training and a good hit out at the Melbourne Marathon and Genovese Kinglake ride confirmed the body has held up over the build and pre season training blocks. However, it is still a little bit of a surprise that the music is about to begin already, Shepparton is just over two weeks away.

I am looking forward to this rematch, actually. Last year I arrived as a long course first timer, full of nerves but brimming with confidence. When the "gun" went of and I got under way from the deep water start the nerves disappeared. Out of the water in good time and onto the bike for my favourite part of the race, everything was humming. Off the bike and into transition for the last time, the confidence disappeared. Running out of transition I discovered my knees no longer seemed to bend. Confused, and a little worried, I pressed on, trying to warm into some form. Perhaps just 2km into the 21.1 required was where the muscle cramping began and I was reduced to walking. For the next two hours, 45 minutes I worked my way around the run course three times, running when able, walking when not, with one eye on the clock and just constantly moving forward. I had considered trying to break my half marathon PB with this run, now I was just trying to beat the cut-off time. After a solid start and with the bulk of the work done, I had been undone due to a lack of nutrition on-board.
About four months later, at Portarlington, I took on a similar distance race but on possibly a more hilly course. Despite my spectacular dismount, this time I had leant my lesson, and ran out the entire 20km course. I did slow towards the end yet did not walk, did not break.
Another year wiser, game on!

Good luck to all those racing this weekend, may you race hard and stay safe, remember to enjoy, thank the volunteers, high-five the kids and, most importantly, zip up your race suit for the photo!

Tis the season

Tis the season to be jolly...

The race season is almost upon us again, and  today was the day to finally put the money down and buy my entrance to the Gatorade Series for 2012/13. At this time last year I had the opportunity to forego the age group classification and enter as a Clydesdale. This was a right I had earned over the course of many years, years of telling myself I was exercising enough to warrant the volumes I was eating. Don't get me wrong here, my diet had seen some dramatic improvement and I'd been eating better for some time. My Achilles was (and still is) portion control.

After the wind-trainer session on Tuesday night I had a brief chat about my progress with Coach Greg. The take away points:

• pay attention to my body, work to a level I can sustain (fast spin stuff just kills me!)
• focus on getting quality out of my training
• continue to work on economy
• plenty of volume of running with good technique
• it wouldn't hurt to lose a bit of weight

Upon his suggestion I plan to resume weighing myself - daily - for the next 3 weeks.

Fluctuations are expected, but, by following this routine and taking the measurement at the same time of day I should get a better picture of what is happening with my body and how I can better maintain it.

The scales and I are old acquaintances, but had recently separated. When I originally decided to get myself moving again I would step up to check the numbers occasionally. Back then they were rather impressive, but not in a good way. I seem to recall the seeing 120kg, 30% body fat; I also seem to recall thinking "70% muscle then!". Two years when I was filling out the registration form for the triathlon series I first ticked the Clydesdales box, I had dropped 15kg and was just on the max. weight for my full carbon race bike.

Last year I found myself ticking the same box, I had been confidant it'd been a one time deal but a year on, I was still in triple digits, if only just.

When I started this journey to Ironman I dusted off the scales again and was actually using them weekly (for the most part) and recording the outcomes in my training stats. Minor changes were revealed but I was still hovering around the same point. Sometimes I would miss a week, sometimes a couple, then I just stopped the practice altogether. Not a conscious decision, it's just what happened.

So, this morning it was with some trepidation that I again kicked the power button, stepped up and watched the display count backward from 5 whilst it judged the strain I had set upon it.

96.6kg

Today, as I again filled in the form and prepared to part with my hard earned cash it was the age group box I checked. Although I currently still qualify for the big man's start, the season is still 4 weeks away. Between then and now I have scheduled a 14km fun run (to raise money for Movember) a half Ironman race in Shepparton, and a Dragon boat race as part of the corporate games. Add to this the plans to employ the services of a nutritionist and I dare say there be less of me again when Race 1 finally arrives.

So, although I may still bear a passing resemblance to that Jolly dude that visits around the closing of the year, perhaps this will be the year that I'm not the one all eyes turn to when the office festivities require someone to don his red suit!

It runs in threes

If you've been following this you're probably aware that I've had a bit of a run of good luck.
A new TV, home theatre pack, vouchers, a new wetsuit, and then there was a lobster I almost won but my raffle ticket's number was one digit too low. I didn't win that shell fish and I count that as another stroke of good fortune as I was 8 hours away from my next battle with Lavers Hill, no time to attempt that kind of luxury.

A few years ago, I think it was my third season of triathlon, I signed up as a series entrant early and was offered a six week training pack with Tri Alliance. This was also the first time I took on the sprint distance races (the first two series were Fun distance) and being a "seasoned veteran" of the sport I was confident I'd be kicking some ass with the other beginners in my training group. Turned out many were quite a bit more prepared than I and most were also younger and faster. Despite my obvious short comings I felt comfortable with the group, we trained well together, the coaches were supportive and inclusive. For me, swimming was always just about survival so I could get to the fun stuff but, with the included swim sets I soon discovered I could actually freestyle the whole distance. I guess I wasn't as seasoned as I had thought...
All too soon my six week tour was done.
Though it really wasn't in our family budget, the wife and I decided that the team had been good for me. I signed up as a full paying social member.

In the near 3 years since then I have migrated from a beginner Sprint triathlete to the long course races. From plodding along and enjoying the events I am now actually competing and yet, still enjoying them. Since then,  I have three full marathons under my belt, several sub 2 hour half marathons, 2 Olympic distance and 2 long course triathlons and am preparing for my first hit out at the pinnacle of the sport.

Several weeks ago, in the weekly team email I noted they were putting the call out for Tri Alliance ambassadors. I mulled it over for about as much time as was allowed but finally decided to put my name in the hat as well. I knew one of the guys that had nominated himself and was pretty sure he had it in the bag, but I wanted to let the coaches know how much their support had meant to me over these years.

At tonight's combo session we had some product demonstrations from some of the team's sponsors, Mizuno and Rocket Science, and the announcement of the male and female team ambassadors. I was rather surprised when my name was called out as one of the three short listed for the role and totally shocked when I was called out a second time as their final choice a male ambassador for the 2012/13 season!

I have had quite a run of luck of late, well tonight just capped it all off. Previously it's been pure dumb luck, tonight's prize means so much more. I look forward to using this opportunity to give back to the team that's helped me so much over these past few years and have gotten me to where I am now.

If good things actually do run in threes, I guess I'm on my third set by now.


Thanks guys!

Three down

It's 3:00 in the afternoon, my feet are up and I think I'm about to call it a day.

Outside the sun is riding high in the sky, there is not a single cloud on display and, according to the weather app on my phone, there is 0.0% chance of that changing. In short, Melbourne has given us a cracker of a day, but I think I've seen enough of it.

To my reasoning, the 4 hours plus I just spent lapping up that sunshine will do me fine, right now, all I want is a LLD.

 My day began rather early this morning, almost 12 hours ago and 20 minutes before my alarm went off. The culprit, the shear volume of fluids I had consumed yesterday in preparation for today.

Today is Melbourne Marathon day.

Fully hydrated and not seeing the point in going back to bed for 15 minutes I cancelled the alarm and proceeded to get ready instead. Cereal with lactose free milk, beetroot and apple juice, and a glass of electrolyte - I know, more fluids. It can be a bit of a knife's edge we balance on but its got to be done.

The wife a kids needed a sleep in, I needed a warm up so I dragged the bike and my tired ass out the door for the 15 km commute to the MCG. Upon the approach, crossing the William Barrak bridge provided the first glimpse of the sort of day we were being served up. With indigenous music playing (courtesy of the bridge's many inbuilt speakers) the sun was starting to crest the arc of the horizon, framing the "G" 's stands and many light towers, and, riding low in the sky was the sliver of an orange crescent moon. Awesome scene which my phone's camera would not be able to accurately capture, had I not been unselfish enough to use it to share.

Bike secured, warm clothing dropped off and at the start line I met up with a few fellow team members. The chatter turned to expected finish times (as it always will do) and I conceded that I did have plans to go under 4 hours this time around, however a 32 km run in training had proven that goal was out of reach. Instead, holding a 6 minute per km would get me a 4:12 time and an 8 minute PB and I was alright with that.

Deciding upon a pace and actually executing that plan are two very different things. Once under way and out of the main crowd I was running with the group of team mates from the start, talking and soaking up the atmosphere, as we cruised along at a comfortable 5:35 pace...

Damn, I was going to fast, if I didn't back this off (and soon) it would not end well.

It didn't help that I also missed the first 2 drink stations either. Too much congestion and I'm loathe to stop once under way, fortunately, I was still going too fast and Rich offered me a hit from the Shotz bottle he'd recently picked up.

Nine kms down I passed the dude in thongs.

Digest that one for a moment.

I've finally backed off the pace and am running around 5:50, it's comfortable and running slower just feels wrong so I decide to stick with it.

Though Albert Park and on the Beach road the are plenty of switch backs which give an opportunity to give a shout out to friends on different parts of the course, plus receive support from the many on the sidelines. (thanks guys!)

At half way and running along beside the beach I was still ahead of my revised schedule but I wasn't ready to celebrate as I've been there before. The first time I tackled this event I was flying at the start, then positive split by over half an hour...

Leaving St Kilda, towards Elwood we hit the first "hills". Although not overly steep or long I overheard someone complaining that he wasn't told we'd be ascending any on this route. I'm sure it was mainly in jest, but with 27 kms already in the legs he called the first roller "heart-break hill". Realistically, if this course has one of these, it is not scheduled until a bit later. The Birdswood Road hill sits nicely between kilometres 36 and 38 and is the backdrop for many marathoners breaking point.

Off the Beach road, up Fitzroy street, along St Kilda road and around the Art Centre, this is where I began to pay the debt I had amassed in the early stages of the race. Sore feet and and my calves tightening I saw my pace beginning to fluctuate more as well, my Garmin displaying a current pace with a 6 at the front more often than not. I managed to hold it together over the tough section of the race and spent the final 3 kms passing other competitors!

Onto the hallowed turf of the "G", or at least, the green matting that had been lain to protect that turf, I hit top speed for a signature "sprint" finish, capping of my third Melbourne Marathon event. 

I didn't break the 4 hour barrier today (as expected) and I didn't hold 6 min/km pace either (little surprised), instead I punched out a 4:06:55 for 12 minute personal best on this course!

I'll take that.

With three Melbourne races in the books it leaves seven to go to reach Spartan status, so I'll be back again next year to do it all again.

Back home now, I've kicked the shoes off to much relief and am sitting on the bed, the curtain is drawn , blocking out that glorious sunshine, with every intention of sleeping away this afternoon. I say "intention" because I have been reminded that tomorrow is a school day and none of the uniforms are clean plus we don't have anything for dinner yet...

I guess it's a good thing I'm an endurance athlete!

Tick tick...

Time

They say it flies when you're having fun.
Pre season camp at Apollo Bay has come and gone, last Saturday was the annual Kinglake Ride and in around 36 hours I will be toeing the start line of my third Melbourne marathon.
I guess I must have been having the time of my life!

So, camp.
There isn't much flatland around Apollo Bay and again my trusty mountain bike/commuter toured much of it. The plan, as always, involves two days of training with a long ride each morning followed be a run and then icing the legs for recovery. In my fourth visit to this camp two things changed. Firstly, the rest period  between the ride and run was removed and secondly, I actually completed them both. (yay me!)
Day 1
This ride...










...immediately followed by the worst 10 km run I've ever done. Tight shoulders and a number of stops, I might be being a little generous classing that adventure as a run, I was scheduled to do 14 km but decided to bank the ten and live to fight the next day. Finishing early also meant I was in the heart of town so I decided a visit to the Food Works was warranted. Gatorade and chocolate milk to refuel, cereal and milk for tomorrow's breakfast and a big bag of Extreme Cheese corn chips, just because.
The afternoon brought our team meeting and we sat around discussing survival of long course training. To summarise: compression is good, but only when you're doing nothing, beetroot juice is awesome but tastes crap (and is likely to scare you when you pee), baking soda is not just for cupcakes, and icing is not just further punishment from the coach, it actually works. No mention on the benefits upon recovery of extreme cheese powder flavouring, must have been an oversight...

Day 2

Lavers Hill.
I'm used to the poor weather we get on this ride, it always rains, the wind is generally a factor at some point and the gradients are high, the magpie attack was new though.
Tough ride with the trusty bike not playing nice, apparently merely planning to maintain the running gear is not enough, you actually have to do it.
I had expected a convenient excuse to skip to run to be waiting for me back at the house, but with the wife and kids being delayed there was nothing for it but to get on with it. Rough start, I warmed into the run and before long had settled in to an easy stride and was glad I'd pushed myself (however grudgingly) to don the running shoes. Fourteen km out and back along the Great Ocean road and a soak in the pool and camp was done (barring the required stop at the coffee shop)

So, fast forward a bit and we arrive at the Melbourne Marathon. Been there, done that, going around again, and kind of hoping my attitude of quiet confidence is not misplaced. I've been focussing on my bigger goals and, as crazy as it sounds, the thought of punching out a decent marathon hasn't really been on my mind. Instead, I've been putting my experience to use and tried to pass it on to some first timers that I know.
Have I become too blasé?

I guess time will tell.

I'm hoping it continues to fly.

Tough Mudder Weekend!!

It's finally here!
Last December, on the day the Busso Ironman entries opened (also the day I finally conceded I wouldn't be able to enter it) I got an email. The Tough Mudder NSW event was open!
Following a quick chat to the wife it was decided, an hour later and $100 odd dollars poorer I had my spot booked on the start line. If not Busselton WA for an Ironman, we would road trip to our northern neighbour for a 20km obstacle course to battle mud, freezing waters, fire and electricity.  It was going to be awesome!

It has been a long wait since I virtually signed that death waiver (seriously) but it has arrived, this is the weekend of the Sydney TM event and our family road trip and ... we won't be going.

Turns out our grand plans for a 6 day get away were torpedoed by the wife's part-time job. With the store she works at closing soon and the numbers of staff declining she was unable to secure the time off. Funnily enough, this is probably a very lucky break due to the amount of running around she has had to do these past couple of weeks, fighting to get the required funding for The Boy's education next year.
(long story, another time maybe)

Anyway, here's the timeline:

1. Going to do IM Busso because it is the last available one before I turn 40
2. Can't do Busso because it is the same weekend as The Boy's grade 6 graduation
3. Shining light appears, TM NSW is on sale - get spousal approval, get entry - sorted
4. Can't do TM NSW as no driver

Obviously I needed to find something else to fill this void, and lo and behold, Pre-Season Training Camp weekend becomes available. A quick email to the coaches and I secured the last available spot.

So, this still is the weekend; it's not an marathon swim, marathon cycle followed by a um, marathon... nor is it a near half marathon punctuated with fiendish physical tests. Instead, I'm heading back to Apollo Bay for a couple of days of tackling steep gradients on my trusty mountain/hybrid bike, long runs and maybe even an icy swim or two. There might not be multitudes of spectators cheering me on at the end of a long day of racing, or a cold beer reward for running a 10,000 volt gauntlet, but, when I complete my final run on Sunday, the wife and kids will be there, waiting to greet me at our temporary accommodation. And that's good enough for me.

ps, if they aren't waiting to greet me at our caravan, they'll be at George's Food Court on Apollo Bay's main strip, the kid's just love that place! 

Gettin' the Band back together...

If you have done any cycling in your past then you will know the annoyance that goes with the inevitable failure of the pneumatic tyre.
If Murphy's law holds true, your puncture will occur well past the point of returning to home to seek alternate transport and occasionally (infuriatingly) close to a destination option.

There are a couple of types of failures you may experience; the catastrophic that announces itself with a  bang and sudden rush of air leaving the confines of the tube, or the slow, inconspicuous process of deflating. The forming leaves you in no doubt yet is generally met (initially) with disbelief, the later is harder to pick as your first signs of trouble may be an increasingly harsh ride delivered from the imperfect tarmac as the cushioning effect of the tyre decreases.

My last time served curbside with a puncture came at roughly the 60km mark, maybe 5km short of my turn-around point. It was just outside the coastal town of Dromana and was caused by the sharp debris left from recent road works on the freeway. It happened quickly, there was no option but to fix it and it was in the middle of no where. As I stepped of the bike the first thing I noticed was a sudden urgency to use the bathroom - perfect...

Long story short, I used my last spare tube to fix the wheel, fought with the disk brakes that refused to allow the replacement of the wheel, re-adjusted the brakes I had to remove and finally got rolling again to find that bathroom. I also wanted a bike store to restock my kit in case Murphy was not finished with me for the day (I still had a long way to go to get home)

Why am I telling you this?

I'm glad you asked!
Did you know that, annoying as a punctured tube can be, there is a way to recycle your misfortune and create a tool for your training.

When you get back to civilization, simply take the inner tube out from whichever pocket or bag you shoved it (in disgust) and measure out a length of approximately 40 or 50 cm and cut. Now, tie the ends together to create a loop and there you have it. The BAND.

To use your band, during your swim training, place it around your ankles to hold them together and thereby focus on your upper body strength and efficiency. The first thing you will notice when swimming with the band is the irony that a device that is usually considered a buoyancy tool now acts much more like an anchor. Shortly after kicking off the wall your momentum is lost and you're likely to find that the small piece of vulcanised rubber, which can't possibly weigh more than a few grams, is inexplicably dragging your feet towards the pool floor. Before long (if you're like me) you're arms are flailing wildly in a mad dash to find purchase on the water and drag your sinking form to the safety of the far end of the lane.

The band and I are not friends.
We were first introduced 2 years ago during a swim session during the strength building phase of training. Over the previous few weeks I had started to progress up the rankings and kicking some ass - in the beginner's lane - and things were good. The band changed all that. The first time I was given one to use I was full of confidence, 30 meters later however, I was full of chlorinated water, hanging onto the wall and coughing. That day I fought through the session and actually completed some of it, although  many of my laps were punctuated by a detour to the side of the pool convinced I was about to drown.

In the last couple of weeks we have moved back into the strength phase of training and again, the band has been added to our sessions. We are still not friends, however, recently my work to lengthen my stroke and add more power to each one seems to have lessened its attraction to the pool floor. These days I can complete the full session with the band, and for some of it, actually maintain a decent stroke. By the end though I am inevitably fighting with it and just trying to hold some kind of form and not delay those behind me too much.

Perhaps the band isn't just a tool for coaches to bring cocky beginners back down to earth, perhaps it is actually working. Perhaps.
Regardless, the reason I am telling you all is this; next time you are stuck on the side of the road cursing your luck and the idiot who decided reliance on an inflatable tyre was the best solution, just think, this problem could be recycled into one so much worse.
So shut the hell up, fix your flat and enjoy the rest of the ride.

Doing my chores

I'm sitting in the crowd at our latest athlete team meeting listening to the updates, the plans for the upcoming phase of our training then the Zoolander steps up to interview a couple of our numbers. One of the questions he asked was for a preference - "pool or open water". My answer to this question would be - "it doesn't matter, as long as it is over!"
I am not a fan of swimming. Of the 3 disciplines of our sport, the first is always a bit of a chore that needs to be completed before I can go out and play.

Funnily enough, via a couple of unrelated circumstances, the only training sessions I made it to in the last 2 weeks were swims. Sick for a week meant rest and recovery, then a return to training with a swim on Monday. Team meeting on Tuesday so, not wanting to ride to and arrive sweaty, I didn't run in the morning. Wednesday night swim again then Thursday was taken up with "The Night of the Notables" at my daughter's school. (she was Queen Victoria and was brilliant by the way)

Coach Mick was in charge on Wednesday and as is usual, he was telling me off for a problem with my stroke. I am fairly used to being pulled up at the top of the lap for the erroneous error that is hindering my progression out of the low intermediates. "Roll your shoulders!" he yelled as he demonstrated the proper form. This action allows you to glide further, catch the water earlier and thereby push more effectively.  "You've gotta get your stroke count under 50"
So, for the next 20 minutes I tried to emulate the action, counting as I went. Two things became apparent pretty quick, I'm not great at concentrating on more than as couple of things at once (technique and counting meant I kept forgetting to breathe out) and secondly, this gliding stuff worked but was tough on my shoulders!

By the end of the session I had completed a number of laps with a stroke count of 45 and was feeling pretty drained. Getting the stroke right is one thing, doing it economically is another. I am hopeful that over time I'll start to see this economy creep in and I'll fatigue less rapidly. Like it or not, I'm going to have to get to the end of many more of these sessions.

So, with another swim over and another occasion where the coach picked flaws in my action I thought back to the earlier question. This time however,  a new response came to mind. Yes, I was still glad it was done but this time I was thinking "at least he didn't tell me off for my arm crossing the mid-line as usual!"
It looks like I've got one problem sorted out and we are now onto the next point.

I'll count that as a win.

Are you still here?

Hello...

Are you still here?

It's been a while since I opened one of these blank pages and attempted to fill it with some form of interesting commentary. I had been posting once a week and things seemed to be travelling along nicely, and the fodder for these pages kept presenting itself, then came August. I'd been building up to August and the increased load in my training plan, August also held the promise of a long-course training camp in Apollo Bay so there would be plenty to write about. Right?

So, I went to the camp and upon return sat down to pen my thoughts. After an hour I had a fair bit of writing on these pages but there was a problem. Writing those comments had been tedious, and reading it back confirmed it - this was no interest piece. What I had put down was a blow-by-blow account of the rides and runs I had completed, 5 hours in the saddle is a long time; reading the playback seemed to drag equally.

Furthermore, I couldn't see a way to fix it.

So I shelved it and haven't been back here since.

Let's try this thing again, see if we can't find that spark again.

A quick summary of what's been happening

I knew that I'd be tired in August but man it's been hard to drag my carcass out of bed each morning! To be sure, this is due to latent fatigue that has been building for a while now. Fortunately le Tour and the Olympics are over now and I can get back to some early nights and maybe some training!! Earlier nights now also means morning sessions are not just things I just plan to do, I've actually attended several now.

Camp was good, Apollo Bay threatened us with foul weather but delivered it in only short bursts and largely after the work was done. Two long, hilly rides on my trusty commuter bike (it is a mountain bike so it makes sense to ride it in the hills right?) and one long run. There had been a concern (on my part) regarding how the body would handle the training spike. The body handled it just fine, and a free coffee on the top of Lavers Hill was a bonus.

What did I learn at camp?

• The diesel engine I've got going is still quite capable of coping with stresses I throw at it
• The first kms of a run following a long, hilly bike ride may only be technically classed as "running"  
• I am crap at answering Coach Greg's philosophical questions (turns out I am my own biggest competition)
• It's not a good idea to leave a mess for the wife to clean up on check out day

Ever since I did that run technique course I have seen continual improvement in this area, this was again highlighted today. This morning I ran the Sandy Point Half marathon. During the week I had done a couple of fairly big sessions and had already clocked up almost 25km of running so there was the chance of fatigue affecting the outcome of the race. When asked for a goal time during the week I had been saying I'd love to go under 2 hours again. Last year I had completed the Run Melbourne course in 1:55 and then Sandy in 1:58. This year, my Run Melbourne time was 1:52 so when I crossed the line and checked the Garmin I was well pleased with 1:50:01. I was even happier that the coughing fit that followed did not result in a reappearance of breakfast, this feat of restraint required near Herculean effort.

(The official results actually came in at 1:49:58!)

Sub 4 hour marathon this year....?

Recently I blogged about purchasing only our second TV in 18 years. Now there is another new set in our household, arriving literally weeks after the purchase. Both of these new TV's are "Smart", they are 3D capable, both are LED panels with impossibly narrow frames and both are courtesy of our local "The Good Guys" shop. They differ only in brand (One Samsung, the other LG), oh, and price tags. You see, the second one came without one!
Thank you guys, now I just need to make room for it.

And thanks to anyone still here as well.

And so it begins

The road to Ironman is a long one, and it is a long time to maintain focus and drive. When the goal is so far in the future it can be too easy to find justification to take the relax.

I've known for a while that my program would begin in earnest is August but there was always plenty of time.
It comes as a bit of a rude shock that we are now at the end of July. The road I've been on since I first took to the sport of triathlon has always had a steady positive gradient to it, now things are set to get a little grippy (to quote the great Paul Sherwen) From here on the sessions will get progressively longer and it be all the more important to remain consistent with them.

Looking back over the earlier phases of my training this year I can be happy that I have made some decent head-way. My running has always been my weakest discipline but I am now running consistently well; I am swimming fairly solidly and cycling has always been my strength. More recently however, various illnesses and injuries (seldom my own) have meant that I have been missing training. The Tour de France and its inconvenient late night live coverage also conspired to make early morning sessions impossible. Once off the wagon, it can be difficult to get back on.
So, as we transition into the real conditioning phase of the workload I find I am trying to find my training mojo again and hoping that I've done enough base work to enable me to roll with it.

It won't be long before these questions are answered either, this weekend is the Long Course camp in Apollo Bay. On the menu for the two days is over 200km of cycling in the hills and 30 km of running on tired legs.
Fortunately, I'll be in some familiar territory as it will be my third trip to the region and, though definitely tough, the terrain has been manageable. At a recent evening run session, Coach Ollie called me "a diesel" based upon my ability to put my head down and just keep going. In the past this trait has enabled me to get through the long endurance events and training days. It is also this trait I've been banking on to get me safely though the days in the hills of Apollo Bay. Later in the same evening, Ollie hinted at his intentions for me when he stated that I "can't be a diesel all the time, we need to work in a little speed"

Yikes, my plan has generally been to keep at this game until everybody else got slower...

Apart from the veiled threat of some higher intensity work, this year's camp will also differ in that I am bringing my own support crew, the wife and kids are coming along for the ride so it should be a fun weekend - I hope... Though it is a great place to train and visit, I'm crossing my fingers that the weather holds enough for them to enjoy it!

As I look now at the clock in the corner of my computer screen I note that we have crossed the timeline. August has finally arrived.

Good luck to all who have also set their sights on the same goal, may we all climb this peak safely.
The view from the top will be amazing!

I knew a man who didn't once ride up Mt Wellington

I knew a man, who didn't once ride up Mt Wellington
It is for him, today, that I chose to ride.

Today, I will ride strong, my cadence will be high and my hands will be soft on the bar. I will pedal in circles today, I will drop my heel on the down stroke, wipe my feet across the bottom then lift and repeat. Core switched on, abs engaged and hips level, because that's how he would ride.

I do not need your wheel, I will not rest in your draft. Today, this is an express and we are not taking passengers. You may catch my wheel and though my bike may weigh two of yours, I plan to make you earn that spot, it is for my friend that I ride today.

I will climb the hills and welcome the head wind and only rise out of the saddle to maintain the pedal stroke as I surge forward. I will respect my fellow road users all the laws bar one, today, the law of gravity can kiss my ass, for I knew a man who didn't once climb Mount Wellington and tonight I will fly.

My socks high, my cycling kit matching and in my jersey pocket will be the most important item for cycling, a handy chapstick - that's how my friend would ride.
Am I gritting my teeth or was I grinning? I'll leave you to ponder that as I pass by. Today, as things start to get dfficult, I will make sure to enjoy the wind in my face, relish the burn in my legs and seize the moment as each one is a gift - that's why it's called the present.





As he so often did, my friend has gone ahead of the rest of us, he's in the breakaway somewhere. He was born and raised in Tasmania, he was a pure spirit, a great friend to all who knew him, he loved his friends and he lived to ride. He was at home on his bike and it was beautiful to watch.




Tasmania's Mount Wellington rises 1,271 meters above sea level, the climb is just over 21km and yet my friend didn't climb it once.

You see, he used to climb it twice...

In memory of John Cornish

Swings and round-a-bouts

Murphy's Law is a bitch, but Karma trumps all...apparently

It has kind of snuck up on me but this week was to end with a race. I'd signed up for Run Melbourne some time ago and since then, it had just an event some time in the future. Now the race was imminent and, based upon how the week began I was holding out some concerns about how the day would pan out.

You may have previously read of the events of last Sunday, allow me elaborate and add some context.

In this case, the story starts on the Saturday of last week, the day we bought our new TV.
I had been wanting to purchase a nice "big screen" for quite some time but either finances or circumstances prevented us from actually doing so. Finally, the stars aligned and we brought home a new 32" LCD (this being the largest screen that will fit in the cabinet we have).
Back home with everything plugged in and switched on, there was only one thing missing, the channels... turns out the added electrical noise introduced by the TV was too much for the cheap ALDI aerial being used.

Fortunately, the only channels that were strong enough to come through were the SBS ones so we were still able to watch le Tour.
Sunday morning we discovered that the availability of just the 4 SBS channels meant we had the choice of watching the news in like 8 different languages and not much else. The situation needed a solution and I was rather tempted to revert back to the smaller screen in exchange of viewing variety.
We had been scheduled to visit the wife's side of the family for a birthday but, since The Boy was ill, the plans changed slightly and I stayed home with him whilst the girls headed of for the celebration. With this opportunity to stay home I figured a quick visit to a local electronics store was on the cards. Try as I might though, The Boy flat refused to leave the house all day so instead I used the interwebs to order a replacement aerial. To speed the process, I chose not to have it posted, instead, scheduled an instore pick-up for the following day.
Plans changed again later in the day when I received a call from a distressed wife. She'd been heading out to the car to come home, tripped and fallen and, based upon the sharp snapping sound she'd heard, the situation was not good.
With an ambulance ride, x-rays and a taxi ride we arrived home with a rental pair of crutches, a diagnosed "bad sprain" and no prospect that any one would be driving to Dick Smith to pick up the aerial.

Another morning of watching multi-lingual news was too much and a new plan was hatched to rectify the problem. Since it was a Work From Home / Carers day for me, a visiting friend offered to be my temporary chauffeur for a triple mercy run. Grab the required aerial, pick up some pain relief drugs and some trashy magazines (apparently also part of the wife's treatment). Stop one sorted out the drugs and mags but before we moved off I decided to grab some cash from a handy ATM. Insert card, enter PIN, watch system crash due to local power failure. I guess that ATM hadn't been so handy afterall.
5 minutes later, following a full system reboot of the ATM it was official, no returned card and no means of paying for the new aerial...

Confident that the universe is trying to tell me that I was to become one with SBS I head back home. Turns out the wife does not share the views of the universe and, more to the point, her opinion overrides it. We are shortly back on the road with the wife's ATM card and strict instructions not to return empty handed. We acquiesce and by lunch time our new television is complete (more or less, but who needs channel 7 any way...?) and the wife moves her recovery to the bedroom, injured foot raised and remote control close to hand.

There is something you should know about the universe, the universe doesn't appreciate its will being usurped and the universe is vindictive. Mid-afternoon, the new aerial was rendered useless and the hard won channels were promptly snatched away. A power failure in the master safety switch knocked out all of the power points in the house. We now had even lost SBS and the ability to watch the Hindi news.


Tuesday, 3:30 in the afternoon and the power is finally restored and I figure the week is finally about to turn around. That was until the wife took the compression tube off of her injured ankle and realised the predicted reduction of swelling had not occurred, quite the opposite actually...

To summarise, here is a brief run down of the next few days.
The wife spent another 4 hours in the doctor's surgery getting a second opinion, which didn't shed any light, yielding only the promise of a followup appointment next week.
A wallet I'd ordered from Amazon.com arrived, with a delivery price twice that of the delivered item. The "leather" mentioned in the description of it seemed to refer only to the texture of the crappy vinyl. It did have the bonus of containing "chemicals known...to cause cancer" so that's something.
The Boy got sicker and he shared his poor health with his mother and then me.
Also, my shoulder, which had been sore for a few days was not improving.
I admitted defeat and had to book my first ever appointment with a Physio. Now, I have been competing in triathlon for several years now and have put it a lot of long kms training and commuting but have never sustained an injury that required treatment. The activity that brought that to an end was watching TV...

It was suggested that I should buy a lottery ticket, this run of luck had to turn sometime right!?

Saturday night I took that advice and bought a number of names in a Tour de France sweeps.
Later that evening, by the intimediary sprint of the stage I had got my investment back in the form of a voucher for The Bike Lab.

Early start on Sunday and much buoyed by my win in the sweeps I was less pessimistic for the Half Marathon. After catching the tail end of the illness The Boy had brought home I was really just looking at the race as a training run. I made sure I had my Garmin for the run but used it only to record the activity and to let me know when to take on my nutrition. Instead of checking the GPS to monitor my pace I worked to a comfortable perceived effort.
At the half way point of the race I hit the split and checked the readout for the first time. I was happily surprised to note I was on track for another sub 2 hour race. Around for the second lap of the course and at the 20km point I made a decision. That was it, no one else was going to pass me today, accordingly, I picked up the pace.
In the run up the final climb there was one guy wh appeared to be unaware of my pact and had the audacity to run past. I kept him insight though and in the run into the finish line I broke into a sprint, caught and passed him then stopped the clock at 1:52:38. Some how I had been able to record another PB (if you take into account the extra 400 metres I'd run due to weaving through slower runners)

Speaking to wife after the race I learned that my luck from the Tour sweeps the night prior had yielded further fruit, to my prize of the $100 voucher I had added an $800 wetsuit!

After such a crappy start to the week, it finished on a much better note and I am now watching le Tour in simulated 3D on my nice new screen.

What a change a few days can make!

Television and breaking news

Yesterday my wife reminded me that "this is only the second TV we have bought together in 18 years"

As I ride the train towards the city now it strikes me just how long that is. If our relationship was person, it would now have matured to the point it could legally drink alcohol and vote. (Some would say a necessary combination). It also now strikes me that i do neither of these vices...

During our time together we have been there for each other, survived a 5 year engagement, got married and had kids (but not in that order) and purchased two televisions. Between us, we share a couple of bank accounts (spread thinly), half a house and 1 car. Many years ago, I tried this driving fad that all my friends were getting into but never caught the bug. I like to say I resisted the peer pressure, more likely, I chickened out. Never comfortable behind the wheel, one near miss with an oncoming bus and I was done. My learners permit expired and I never went back. To make matters worse, I also don't drink so have also failed to provide the designated driver duties my dry nightlife would normally end itself to.

This also means that, with my new found interest in triathlon and endurance sports, my wife finds herself behind the wheel a lot of extra time, driving me to an event, dropping of gear so I can participate in training for an event, or picking my sorry ass up after I have found myself stranded upon finding the limit between my ambition and ability.

We are a team, she and I, our first born is in her first year of high school, and The Boy is on his way to graduating from Primary at the end of this year. Though I may have assumed some credit by claiming us a team, these achievements I put largely down to the dedication of my better half.

She commented just yesterday that she worries that the things I do for our family may jeopardise m y chances of completing the mission I have set myself. She voiced this concern as we were babysitting her sister's three children and I was reluctant to leave the task solely to her in lieu of another epic late-night windtrainer session. I dismissed it at the time but, as I sit here at Flinders Street station awaiting a connecting train, I reflect back on the our time.

Since I began trying to get my fitness back, I have asked a lot of my wife. Sure, it is me out there in various weather conditions, battling heat, wind, exhaustion, sore and tired muscles and more chafing than I care to mention, but it is also her. It is she that keeps the home functioning, she that looks after the kid's needs and ensures my need for gear does not exceed our modest budget. And it is she that endures an empty bed whilst I am out chasing a dream. She must have broad shoulders as she deals with this load and my continual sarcastic quips in her stride.

She is my number one fan and my biggest supporter.
She worries that trying to help her out will hinder me... I didn't say it at the time, add that to my failings, but, without her, I wouldn't have been able to achieve all I have so far.
Missing a session here and there will be OK, we are a team, and we will get there together or not at all.

I am fine with that.

So, here I am, I am currently a riding the second train of the evening. I had no plans to leave the house tonight. By the time I reach my destination I will have been out for about 3 hours. This unplanned adventure was prompted by a phone call I received as I began preparing dinner. My number one fan, my rock had been visiting her sisters to celebrate a nephews birthday and as she was leaving the house she has taken a tumble and has a suspected broken ankle.

Tonight, I get the opportunity to begin balancing my side of the ledger by offering some support to her. I do, however, wish she would give me less painful reasons to be in her corner! (and just quietly, the irony that it is her driving ankle is not lost on me)

Waiting in the emergency room to see my wife and hold her hand, rub her back and reassure her things will be alright. I hear they have good drugs here too.

Thank you for all of these years JoJo, we have faced some obstacles and we continue to buck the trend and remain together and happily so.

Blood Sweat and 3 PBs

Time trial week- a favourite part of my training regime!
(now, where is that sarcasm symbol...)

We are told these trials are an important indicator of progress, I am sure this is true, however this truth doesn't increase my appreciation of them.
Following a week off due to illness where I really only got two quality sessions in I really wasn't looking forward to racing the clock. The preceding week included hitouts on Monday and then again on Sunday, and both were runs. (Admittedly, there were plenty of "runs" mid week but of a totally different ilk)

Actually, leading into this week I was unaware we had arrived again at timetrial week and had packed all of my swim gear in preparation for the regular Monday night swim. Midway through the day I checked the schedule to reconfirm the start time of the swim only to find the truth.
Bugger
Being a "low intermediate" level swimmer, it would be a day off for me.
As I am in the Long Course category time trials week mean a 1km swim, a 10km run, and a 20km cycle.

1km Swim
If you are not a swimmer, this might come as a bit of a surprise but, to go faster, you need to slow down. By that I mean, your stroke rate needs to be steady and efficient, you need to ensure that you get the most out of each stroke and keep pressure against the water for as long as possible as you hand and forearm are underwater. I have spent the last year or so trying to convince myself of this fact and then teach my body to follow the lesson. I think it is starting to work...
6 weeks ago at the last set of time trials I got through the swim in 20:48, anything over 20 minutes means you are not classed as an advanced swimmer and you swim in the evenings rather than early mornings. (Bonus!)
Heading into the swim this time around I focussed on trying to push each stroke to the full length of my arm and glide. In my lane were several swimmers completing the shorter 500m time trial, and one other doing the full 1km. I started toward the back of the group, based upon where my pace sat amongst my lane mates during the warm up. Starting 10 seconds apart, however, I found myself catching feet and passing people at the lane ends and somehow found myself at the front of the group.
The lessons must be taking affect.
10 laps in and there was a sprint to the finish for some of those who were finishing up and then there were only 2 of us left swimming, Paddy and myself.
I guess I had slowed as I felt my feet tapped and so I paused at the end of the lane to let Paddy through, however, on the return trip, I was again catching his feet. Instead of constantly switching positions we ended up just swiming side-by-side for the remainder of our trial.
Since I had seen the others finish their laps I had reset my lap count to tally up the last 5 returns to the head of the pool, and as I turned for the last length I stepped up the effort to finish with a sprint and stop the clock.
Flying down the lane and actually (finally) opening the gap I came in hard, hit the end of the pool and popped my head up to get the time, job done. Except, job wasn't done, there was another lap required!
Crap!!
Having to pull out another 100 after throwing all the eggs into that last basket was not easy but I squeezed out another 2 laps and finished with another 50m sprint to finally stop the clock.
Overall, it felt strong, I had caught and passed several swimmers, had vainly pushed myself to stay with Paddy as we swam the last few laps and had smashed out the finish sprint twice. This was going to be a good time!
20:37 - only 11seconds faster than last time...Oh well, at least I wont need to relinquish my morning sleep in.

10 km Run
After completing my 6 week run technique course with Tony Benson I felt that I owed it to Tony to do well. Tony and also the wife who allowed me to invest the extra $$ to do the course, let's be honest!
Our last time trial around Albert Park lake actually occured about 2 weeks into the technique course and I did mine after completing an evening session with Tony. We had done a couple of hard kilometers during the session with plenty of active recovery so it was a pretty solid warm-up and, even though my time trial a solo effort, I got a decent time of 52 minutes (with change).
As we set out for the trial, Coach Sarah made sure we knew the objective of the night. Today was about posting a solid time but not going out and smashing ourselves. Early in the build period we are looking for steady gains and trying to avoid injury. We were not targeting personal bests, especially considering the high wind speed on the back of the course.
Warm up done and full of nervous energy it was time to start. With my Garmin recording the time and distance I went into my steady 10km pace and kept the mantra repeating in my head - stay tall, hands up and relaxed. Ensuring my breathing remained easy, 3 paces per exhalation and at least 2 for the reverse I worked to maintain my effort and efficiency, checking the Garmin periodically to confirm I was travelling well.
Turning the corner at the top of the lake for the first time I got to experience the full extent of the wind - damn. The average pace took a hit but I just tried to maintain good technique and keep the effort solid.
At the half-way point I hit the lap button for a surprisingly good time and then focussed on trying to repeat it. The first thing that happened was that, the runners ahead of me that I had been pacing off seemed to be getting smaller. I initially put this down to them picking up their pace, looking for a negative split. Since I was still feeling OK and working off an even percieved effort I was happy enough for them to go. It wasn't until I went to reassure myself of these facts on the glowing screen on my wrist that I discovered full truth - crap.
They may have sped up, but that didn't fully explain the rate at which they were dissapearing into the distance. With renewed urgency I stepped up my effort again, unwilling to give up the time gains I had already earned.
The wind greeted me again at the top of the lake but this time around, I was starting to pay the debt from lap one and was forced to concede a bit more of my pace. My reliance on the Garmin's display increased as I continued to refer to it over the remaining kilometers. Generally a quick check followed by a curse and another little increase in effort. The left turn off the top of the lake brought a welcome reprieve from the winds with the shift in direction and the shelter of the trees. What didn't drop though was the frequency in which I checked my pace. At least now the numbers were improving, as the km steadily approached the target of 10, the minutes per km were holding or reducing.
Coming past the boat houses I started to wind up for the finish and then hit that final corner hard. Rounding the bend with 100m (or so) to go I was sprinting and stopped thhe clock as I crossed the line.
48:47 - not only a PB, that is the first time I have ever gone under 50 minutes over 10km
Thanks Tony!

20 km Cycle
I don't generally do the bike time trials, and, this week continued that trend...
Instead of the ride, I made sure I got my long run in for the week.
Sunday, the family and I found ourselves at the OZ Comic Con, a day full of lining up, fighting for space, laughing at the mad fans in crazy outfits and buying comics that may or may not be read. When we reached the limits of our tolerance we took our leave of the madness and returned to reality for a bite to eat.
Back at the car I got changed, grabbed my gels and said goodbye to the family, as they rove home I headed out to make a similar journey on foot. The schedule for the week called for a 21km run, it is about 17km home from town. Instead of the direct route I added the extra distance rquired by heading to the bay first to then complete the concavity of the beach trail.
Cold temperature, some rain and constantly being herangued by zombies (courtesy of my "Zombies! Run" app) I settled in for the 2+ hours it would take.
Again, focussing of my form and trying to complete the distance in a solid time I noticed that I was actually on a really good pace. As I reached the end of the beach trail and turned off on the homeward stretch I found I was looking at another PB for the week. At 21.1km I recorded my fastest ever half marathon, 1:52:10, taking almost 3 minutes off last year's Run Melbourne.
When I arrived home I had covered roughly an extra 2km over last Sunday's long run but had finished in a time 2 minutes quicker!



If you're paying attention, you may have 2 questions:

1. Aren't you missing a PB in your count?
2. Didn't you promise blood?

My third PB of this week addresses both of these and it came on the Friday as I was relaxing in a lay back chair. In just 27 minutes I completed my fasted ever plasma donation at the Bourke Street donor centre

An unusual trifecta, but I'll take it!

Oh, and there is also this photo that shows the stats of my run home,
plus what I endured to achieve them...

Undead bookends

The week that was, where do I start to describe it?

Instead of the obvious place (the beginning), or even the creative point (the end, Memento style), let's go back an extra week and start there - why not?

Mark it in your calendar dear reader, Monday - the 11th of June was the where my Ironman training stepped up. This was the first week where I hit multiple, serious sessions and got a taste of the consistent effort that will be required from here on. Monday evening swim session; Tuesday was an early run set with an evening windtrainer to cap the day. On Wednesday I and my boardshorts were back in the pool and Thursday night was another run. Friday was a day of rest; Saturday I had the bike on the windtrainer in the garage for an 80km virtual hill ride and closed the week with a long out and back 18km run and managed to record a decent negative split.
Awesome week? You bet!
More importantly, I still felt pretty good at the end. A steady build in the coming weeks and months and I was starting to feel pretty optimistic.
Little premature? You bet!

Thus we come to the week of the living dead.
As is common in most good films of this genre, the week began normally enough - no hint of the carnage to follow. Bright shiny day and lots happy faces all round. Monday I had to drop The Boy at school and so had to catch transport to work, but that was cool, as I got to read my copy of Aus Triathlon & Multi-Sport magazine and catch up on my Draw Something games. It also meant I got a pretty good long walk in as I made my way to the pool and smashed a great swim set after work. At home later I got my gear together for another double session Tuesday. With that I turned in for the night and so ends act one, as we see our characters resting easy.

It was another typical Tuesday morning, I awoke early that day to make three lunches and one breakfast. I ate the one breakfast and packed one lunch. The bag was quite full and rather heavy but that was cool because it had everything I'd need for the day. Kissed the wife Good-bye and was out the door into the cold morning air on the bike by 5:20am, even though I had pre-organised for today, I was already running late. Not too late, just a little late, just enough to give the viewer a hint of trouble brewing.
I arrived and locked my bike at MSAC in time...to see my run group heading off without me (Insert dramatic music)
Fortunately, I had seen the direction they were travelling (opposite to normal), and was able to perform a quick change to my running gear (thank you transition training!) and dump my bag in a locker. As I rushed out to catch the group I spotted one of the other coaches who had also arrived late, she had also been unaware of the different location of the day's run so I guess it was lucky I was still there.
We ran together during the warm-up run and spotted the group silhouetted by headlights on the other side of Albert Park lake. Spurred on by this, and seeing how far in front they were I pushed the pace a little and actually distanced my coach!
Ok, so we were only supposed to be warming up and she was likely being the sensible one, but after last week I took this as another sign of how great I was tracking.
We caught the group before the main set and got things underway. This day I found I was able to push the pace AND hold it for the entire session. So what if I was late this morning, I got in a solid 10km as well as a 13km ride, all before 9am!

Back at my locker in MSAC, and about to get changed to complete the journey to the office I was surprised by a phone call. It's the wife, there is a problem at home, The Boy is sick and has to stay home from school today, seems he's picked up that gastro bug that's been going round. The problem is that the wife has to work and can't stay home with him. Being in the IT industry I have the power to work from home occasionally, something the wife's retail job doesn't allow. I suggest I exercise my power and change my course for home.

Forty-five minutes later I arrive back where I started and find there's been a new development, the girl will also be staying home today. Turns out she hadn't been just putting on an act and was actually sick as well so this would be a party for three. My smooth sailing day is slowly unravelling but I am still not able to see the horror that is coming.
The kids are settling in to a day on the couch in their PJs, playing electronic games to distract them and numb the tummy aches and the wife heads out the door to restock our supply of toilet paper. I decide to grab a quick bite to refuel and switch on the computer ready to e-commute to the office for the day. This wasn't part of the plan for the week, but, I got my run in and an extra solid ride so all was not lost. And, since the wife's shift was not a long one today, I could still arrange to get to the evening windtrainer and thereby remain on track.
It was whilst waiting for the missus to return from the TP run that I first noticed the something was off. I'd eaten breakfast (early, I know) and I'd just had a snack recently, I shouldn't still be feeling these hunger pains...

It was with some defiance, and some would say a good measure of stupidity, that I next attempted the quell the growing discomfort in my stomach with a peanut butter and cheese sandwich (actually, it was two of them - I know...) This would probably be the scene where some hapless character has decided to investigate that noise in the dark, discovers the light is faulty but proceeds regardless. They remain blissfully unaware that you, the viewer, are yelling at the screen, pointing out the obvious. I can't hear your cries of warning and I ensure I finish both sandwiches and wash them down with a bit of apple juice.

Unsurprising, this meal does not make me feel any better and I begin to deteriorate fairly quickly. Quite soon I'm regretting my remonstration of the girl when she refused to get up "off her lazy ass and feed her pets" as my words come back to haunt me from the other side of the coin. When the wife does return I am forced to concede, today will not be a "work-from-home" day, and how glad I am that she brought back the 12 roll economy pack. A few phone calls later and she too is staying home, she will be looking after the rest of us. There will be no work produced by this family today.

Now, my wife is a strong woman, she can handle the task, besides, she doesn't start to feel ill until well after midday.

It's been several years for me, but when my foolish defiance from earlier makes its reappearance with such a flourish I must now also reset the clock on my no-vomit record. Curled up on the bathroom mat, empty and feeling like death I'm left wondering how this day turned around so quickly and definitively. It started out so promising, but the day has become extended periods of unconsciousness in bed, punctuated with moaning shuffling visits to purge and culminates with one such session where I found myself on the toilet, clutching fast to a bucket whilst riding out an earthquake. The zombie apocalypse must surely have arrived.

Tuesday was followed by Wednesday (I know, right) which became a day of recovery where again the whole family remained home. I did have to find the strength to get the girl to her school musical auditions on public transport, but at least we were all on the mend.
Well, all except for the wife. As I said earlier, she's a strong woman and she had put in a good fight but she was beginning to lose the war.
Thursday, the kids returned to school and I got back to work, albeit by logging in from home as I returned the favour of Tuesday and nurse the wife.
Friday came and went, I spent the day on location in the office today, but still didn't feel up to any training yet.
Saturday had a long ride scheduled and I had grand plans to do another marathon session in the garage on the windtrainer. I set the bike up, prepared my nutrition and set the alarm, only to change plans in the dark of the morning. I just couldn't face 3-4 hours in the saddle, my - um, let's say resolve, was weak. The highlight of the day was the email I received today. A GPS running app I had discovered several months ago on the iTunes store had just made it into the Android Play store. I paid my money and downloaded my copy of "Zombies! Run" and spent the evening transferring some choice tunes to my phone in preparation for the long run set for Sunday morning.

I finally reopened my training account shortly after sunrise on Sunday as I headed out for my first run with headphones for quite a while. I started my Garmin and began my first mission on my new app. Through my headphones I heard helicopter pilot talking to me and the radio operator bringing us into some remote base. As I ran down my street, I heard the rocket attack strike our helicopter and our crash landing. Running passed the local shopping strip the radio operator at the base told me that a nearby zombie hoard had heard our crash landing and were approaching, Run!
It was less than a km from home that I first heard them coming for me and had to pick up the pace to escape, not fast enough though, I had to drop and item I had collected to distract them.
Turns out, you really need to sprint to evade zombies...

I was supposed to go for a 19km run, I ended up with a little over 22km recorded on my app, in a time of 2 hours, 10 minutes and change. During that time, I completed my mission on Zombies! Run, picked up 42 virtual items to build my base and out sprinted the zombie hoard 11 times. Each attack requires you to increase your pace by 20% for about a minute. What better incentive to get some intervals into your long run than being chased by the undead!?

So, that was the week that was, a week I suggest was bookended by the the living dead. It started with me feeling like one of their number, and ended with me smashing out a solid run whilst racing against them.

I admit, they did catch my twice but I'm pretty sure I got home safe.
I know I lost some skin during my run, sure, but that's only because I tripped.
This doesn't look like a bite to you does it?

Let me pick your brain...