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.