Réflexion: Training camp?

To reflect upon the part of the airline industry that I work for and their lack of action over the previous few days would be unhelpful and fruitless. Simply, it must be recognized that their failures have provided an opportunity to reflection or réflexion! 

To find myself stranded in yet another hotel may seem frustrating and annoying in the grand scheme of things. However, even though it is as tempting as a chocolate covered strawberry, to see this as a hindrance is unproductive. I have been stranded in the French speaking city of Quebec in Canada. The hotel has a free espresso machine. The city is a veritable hub of training opportunity. What's not to like?? Indeed, the town is somewhat of a challenge regarding communication, but is that not what Ironman training is all about - The Challenge? We wouldn't keep doing it if it got easier. As Napoleon always says, "it always f*@!king hurts!"

I don;t necessarily see Quebec as painful, mind you. Just a fresh challenge to keep things interesting. As we enter our second day of marooning, I see a pool out of my window and a chance to go for a run in the beautiful old city of Quebec. Challenge accepted!

The ankle had somewhat of an off day yesterday. Grumbling about the effort put in over the weekend. It appears to have bounced back today and may even enjoy a good swim to sooth it's disgruntled tendons. The cold/heat method seems to generate a very good response from "the ole fella" (as I have now named that appendage) The homework must been done well this week. The doctor is due for a visit this week and I must convince him the "old" body isn't done yet!

One of the things that has been reflected on all this week is how I came to have this grumbling ankle. Yes, there was the over zealous football from youth to present - dismissing the aging in between. Yet, it never complained in training previous. Which brought my mind to the ever challenging, completely inappropriately selected footwear run of  Challenge Henley. The brutal, hardened and slippery field that we ran through for 3 miles of each loop of the run portion. Did that finally beat the "ole fella" in to a state of such fatigue that when I finally kicked a ball with it again the jig was up?
One particular personality trait I possess is analysis - excessive analysis. Or, as my wife describes it, "flogging it to death". So, finding the root cause of this has been dancing around my thoughts. Could this painful, yet glorious day be the origins? For Pete's sake, I fell down a drainage ditch in 2012, buggered the ankle beyond what I thought was repair and still managed an entirely successful (read: good enough) completion of France. Yet, France's course was the flattest smoothest run known to man. The polar opposite of Henley. Ah, I shall ponder some more. Better get some more espresso!

Good luck to us all!

Working on my "menu French"

Morning sunrise over my of my favourite places to run.