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...