Back to dreamin...

It's been awhile. Such a common phrase, like welcoming an aquaintence you've been subconsciously avoiding for.... a while. It would have to be said that this holds some water when it comes to this blog.

When the blog was first named it was named for the three guys who set out on a journey to finish an iron distance race. 140.6 miles in one day, under our own steam, using various methods of self inflicted forward momentum. This is always a challenge, no matter how many times you've completed the distance. However, you need purpose is absolutely necessary to drive you forward, to want to endure such a feat.

There was a charitable purpose to the last attempt in Idaho. A real purpose that could drive you through the massive amounts of training to be ready for race day. Ready I was, yet the mental training wasn't up to snuff and yet again I found myself hindered out of the course and unable to unleash myself to my full potential. Another mediocre time. It was almost as if time was meandering on by. The motions being followed. Familiarity ringing strong in the ears as the course passed us by. The swim is brilliant. The run very enjoyable, as you see the faces cheering you on. However, that bike has become so.....very.....boring. Self-inflicted. Self hindered. It could be exciting if I was confident enough to unlock the hooks that mentally dig in and hold me back.

There is no doubt in my mind that another iron distance (or more) is part of the future. The near future? Perhaps not. A few things need to occurr before jumping back up that well worn path. The enjoyment and subsequent desire needs to be re-ignited from within. Riding 180KM is still something that can be fun. Heading out with the lads for a day on the bike with purpose is something that can always be fun. As part of a race, that enjoyment needs to be re-discovered. The foundations of which are in proper racing. The endorphin rush of smashing a course that you have the most confidence in and letting go of the oars. Throwing caution to the wind.

How can this be done, I hear you ask? Short....er course racing is where the fun can be found once again. Different challenges from within the triathlon world. Enthusiasts are re-inventing how we swim bike and run everyday. Super Sprint; Olympic; Half Iron; All three in a weeked????? There is no question that, mentally, I am "burned out" on long course racing for now. Hopefully, some good short course and varied fun can make 2016 a very fun year.

First up race on the calender will be a fun indoor shindig at the Lifetime Indoor Tri at our local university. Shake off the cobwebs time trial each discipline for 30 minutes at a time. In fact, Lifetime is likely to gain a lot of my dollars this year, as they dominate the local landscape of triathlons. Well run and local. That's what the doctor ordered. One race a month (June-August), with a half ironman thrown in for a bit of fun :). What's not to love about that kind of schedule. Become fast and start truly racing again.

There has been a fair amount of the famous soul searching this autumn. It has presented a few welcome challanges and has reinvigorated the inner workings. Purpose is key to keeping one moving forward. Purpose. For me, regarding triathlon, is racing for those who can not. December is a month that will always be reflective since the loss of my father almost a year ago. He didn't have the chance to even attempt a triathlon, as so many others don't. We all take it for granted, those of us that find health an easy option. It is for my father and so many others who don't have the option to attempt a triathlon, or any other sport, that I find purpose within sport. This will be my inspiration moving foward. It is such an incredible motivator to do well and not just do. It's unlcear what form this will take. Charitable? Raising money? Donating time outside of racing and helping others find the joy that I find when toeing the line? My re-introduction to this sport came from joining a charitable racing team. It would be an apt continuance of the journey. It remains to be seen what guise it may take. Perhaps it will present itself in the coming chilly months, spinning away in the cold, dark basement.

In the meantime, it's time to dream of what may come and what could have been.

Good luck to us all!

Broken, but not forgotten

It's been a long old season. The heat was turned up to seventy stupid. The roads proved long and arduous. The hills seemed never ending. Yet, the light continues to shine at the end of the long dark tunnel.


It's pretty common to feel such doldrums after a long season. Look at Lizzy Yarnold. Professional Skeleton racer, taking a year away because of exhaustion. It was important for my psychological betterment to complete another year of iron distance "racing", but not necessarily my physical one.


The end of the season is nye, with just one more bit of fun left to do - to fly back to my home village and race the local 10k to benefit my local elementary school. However, the season long, yet again more discoveries have been made. Possibly a discovery that iron distance racing is no longer exciting. The key phrase "racing" distinctly lacking. Smashing and having an awful lot of fun racing an Olympic distance triathlon opening my eyes to the fact that perhaps it was racing, true competing, that I truly miss. Flying around a course, truly racing those who come by and wanting to catch back up to them, burying your legs long past when they wanted to give up. Only in the latter parts of a long distance race do I begin to feel the challenge of racing, but if only against myself. Crossing the line and completing the course may no longer be enough. A new re-imagining of why to train long and hard is needed.


A local Olympic race in St Paul, MN is where I first discovered my long lost joy of racing. Flying out the swim in 4th place overall and then riding the bike segment with complete abandonment was a thrilling feeling. As much as my body began to fail me towards the end of the run leg, my achilles screaming at me to stop, to cross that line in contention is a newly rediscovered joy. Glancing down at your watch and wondering whether you may have accidentally stopped it halfway round. A new personal best time splashed across the screen, letting you forget your suffering lower body as you are overcome with adrenaline at the thought of truly racing against others on the course. A latter discovery reinvigorating you and allowing you to glance forward to the favourite half iron man, late season race in Square Lake Minnesota. The question bounding around your thoughts, "could I actually race those around me there?"

Ignoring injuries the whole season, say since April, will not make them go away. Works with bad behaving children, but not hip injuries. Post-Olympic elation and my achilles and hip were greatly displeased. Introduce, stage left, the elliptical for the rest of the season. A few test runs and an arduous cricket match later, it becomes very apparent that running is not on the cards for a while. Good news, they have a relay for the half ironman coming up. A "calling all cars" all points social media bulletin later and a trusty running fellow has been found. The race is back on!


And what a race we had. I managed to bike the fastest I have ever biked for the 54 miles distance and swim myself in to 3rd position out of the water. My initial curiosity as to the low numbers for the race that year, is replaced by the realization that this is what transition looks like when you are ahead of a lot of people. Fascinating!


With a solid run from my cohort, we found ourselves with a second place silver medal hanging around our necks, departing in the car to home with a Cheshire cat grin on my face that Rex would be proud of! What a great feeling.

So, once again, I announce retirement from the full iron distance. My body is quite frankly broken and needs repair. Hello, long distance swimming, with a smattering of shorter distance triathlon thrown in for good measure. The outlook for winter is dominated by the gym and the pool. To repair my damaged hip and continue to the repair of my achilles, both likely linked.


The weather is cooling and so will the racing season. Hopefully, there is a bit left to smash it around the Frieth Hilly 10K in 4 weeks. Such a stunning and picturesque race that deserves my full effort.


Time for some ice and stretching, not in that order.


Good luck to us all!

The Need for Speed

To say that the feet were itchy during the normal two weeks off, down time after an ironman, would be an understatement. The lingering and somewhat nagging feeling that I hand't pushed myself enough on the day of Couer D'Alene was ever present in the deep - and shallow - parts of my mind. The answer needed to be found as to why there was a lack of confidence in my body's ability to be pushed to move faster in an iron distance race. This doesn't seem an issue for my shorter races. Simply put, fear drives me in an ironman, which can be a good thing for some, but I believe prevents me from triumphing in this distance.

There is pure joy upon entering the loud, thrilling and inspiring finishing chute of an iron distance race. Yet, the lights dim, the pain subsides and realizations dawn on the timing clock which you saw as you crossed that line. One has to progress to maintain an enjoyment level to keep us driving every year. I do not enjoy that fear. One of the main reasons I do this is the enjoyment of doing what others wouldn't consider. However, that doesn't mean distance is the sole dictum. Speed can be just as fun.

Thus, the ever reduced attention span has been redirected towards those shorter distances that have been missing. Thus, an olympic and half ironman are on the cards  for the season finale. Perhpas a marathon too :)

I enjoy biking, but get bored easily when the bike course is monotonous. A little speed injected in to the day will go a long way to reinfuse the excitment. The question is whether I can keep up with the kids. We shall see in a few weeks time in St Paul.

The legs feel strong and the ticker is happy. Let's hope the lungs agree and let the average speed show what fitness I've been feeling for a few months. No fear.

Good luck to us all!

Someone left the oven on!

Ironman Coeur D'Alene Race Summary

Someone left the oven on.......

It's not often you view a 10 day forecast 10 days out and discover 10 days later that it was actually correct. Very rare. That was my attitude leading up to the most recent iron distance race that myself and the fellas completed this passed Sunday in Idaho. What a race. What an experience. What an oven!

If you're sitting there and have never been to Coeur D'Alene Idaho, stop reading, open a new browser window and started booking your tickets. It is a stunning place to visit. The lake is pristine. The scenery magnificent. The people are kind. It certainly helped that the entire town came out to support us, but I'm sure they would have been that nice normally.

We arrived 5 days out and settled in to our cabin in the woods, along with Frank the Rooster and his chickens. Frank's clock was a little off and he tended to crow long before sun up. However, that proved quite useful as Ironman decided to move the race start time up an hour due to the forecast heat. That forecast was displaying a high of 107F! On the face of it, this appeared to be a good idea. However, upon closer inspection, we realized we would be running longer in the heat of the day. Not much to be done about it now, but that didn't stop my worry.

I had never even considered racing in such temperatures, let alone training for them. I was even worried about my supporters who would spend the day hunting for shade and surviving their own battle with the heat. How my body would react to such temperatures concerned me greatly, but as my wise friend and trusted support mechanic Mitch would remind me the night before, there was nothing to be done about the weather. I could only control how I behaved in that temperature and to trust in my training. He's a wise old friend. Sometimes you need that kind of dressing down to bring you back to reality and get your mind focused on the task at hand. That task being to complete the job ahead of me in the memory of my father.

We awoke to the announcement that the day would not be shortened due to the temps and we would race through the Idaho hills, where the sun would bake the riders and the road up to 109F. Such a temperature, that at one point we descended and my hands were heating up, instead of cooling down.

As far as getting up and starting the swim, we could not have asked for anything better. It was 70 degrees. Clear skies. Calm winds. The water temp was actually above the air temp at 73F. Almost non-wetsuit legal. This is unheard of for the race typically cold and windy race. We chose wetsuits, but in hindsight, I would have preferred to swim without, as the body was a little toasty strapped in to all the neoprene. However, the lake provided such clarity and under water scenery that an excess body heat drifted to the back of my mind. As we glided out in our rolling start waves, you could see the bottom from 20-30feet up. Such delights can not be found in the lakes of Minnesota. What a view it was! With two laps, combined with an "Australian Exit", the swim was a delight. The strokes were moderated as the heat was ever present in my mind. Even though I record swim was well within my grasp, I wanted to have as much energy as possible going in to the ride. With 107 on the cards and 5,700ft of climbing on completely exposed roads, I would need as much energy as I could reserve. With little more than one or two strong strokes, I coasted out of the swim in 1hr 11min. A time I was ecstatic with, considering the low efforts. 

We set out on the bike and the first mini out and back of 16 miles was stunning. Along the lakeshore with a slight climb and a quick return to town made for a lovely warm up. Then we set out for 40 miles of undulating terrain, snaking through the hill farming country of northwest Idaho. It did have some great scenery as well, but I was busy conserving energy on the climb and ensuring I still had matches left in the book for the second lap. Boy, was I glad I did. The second lap proved to be a scorcher. As the stronger bikers headed in and us weaker lot were left to bake, the heat began to take it's toll. We rose like a cake in the oven on that second lap. Slowly, but assuredly, not too well done and soft enough for the true flavour allowed to burst out on the run. It didn't help our moisture content when one of the aid stations ran out of water. That led to myself and the newly arrived Napoleon to have to work together to stay hydrated with what we had onboard. Constitution must have had something in his nutrition because that boy, despite the heat and being taken down by another cyclist, smashed the ride and rode in a 6hr and 45min split. A full hour ahead of myself. I was disappointed to be so far back, but it was quickly turned to confidence when I came out of T2 with plenty of juice in my legs.

As the first tentative steps were taken departing T2, I was waiting for the knee to show it's true colours. However, as the run went on, I found the miles drifting by without too much pain. Although, again energy was being conserved and the pace modest, the first half marathon felt fantastic. The locals all had the hose pipes on full and doused us at every opportunity, which made the heat seem a non factor for much of the time out on the trail. This is the part of the race that I truly enjoy. I'm no longer on a saddle giving me the wedgy of a lifetime and I'm running with the noise of all the supporters ringing in my ears. It is such a great feeling. Constitution was pounding out the miles, seemingly unaffected by the heat and smashed through the finishing tape in 13hrs and 31mins. What an effort! I managed to track down Napoleon at the finish and we plodded the last 4 miles together. We talked about how he was going to ask his girlfriend to marry him at the finish line, which made the miles fly by and set up the greatest and most fun finish I have ever completed. The crowd were booming and when he hit one knee 100 yards from the finish the noise exploded in our ears and we finished the last 20 or 30 yards with grins as big as cheshire cats. My friends and family were brilliant! I managed to see them at least 6 times out on the course and the two loop format was a perfect way to race this distance.

Naturally, you alway wish you could have gone faster and I do have the feeling that I left something out on the course. I definitely feel I could have turned in a stronger bike split which would have brought me a lot closer to 14hrs. The marathon was very satisfying considering the conditions. The knee didn't chirp up once. With the thrill of that Ironman finish, unparalleled in my opinion, what could the future hold........?

Good luck to us all! 

It's Showtime

Take a theatre company, or an orchestra. They practice a piece of music everyday. They ensure that each note is played to perfection, ensuring the audience is presented with a flawless performance. Their environment is consistent. No variables, but the humans that belt out the notes, crescendoing at the conclusion with a triumphant finale.

The issue with triathlons is that our sheet music ever changes. Our environment is anything but consistent. The bodies of water we swim in are dynamic. The roads we ride on sometimes rough and unsure. However, the weather we practice in is always different. We try to find the right type to mimic what we would receive on race day. Coeur D'Alene is renowned for it's choppy cold waters and brisk weather. Not this year! That sheet music has been emblazoned a few octaves higher and forecasts suggest we could be playing in the 105 degree area. We have trained in all types of environments this year. Wind, rain, cold and lack of directional sense. However, nothing we could have done would ready us for this weeks forecast. And quite frankly nothing we still can do, but prepare and be dynamic. Adaptable and cautious. As one of my friends has stated. Forget being quick. Forget performing well. Embrace that you're attending a hot party and manage the day as best you can.

The good news is that the pressure is off. No one expects anyone to finish in temperatures such as these. It will be another climb on the way to this elusive prize. The key in this environment is to let the others fuck it up. Pace yourself, take on fluids like it's a new fashion trend and survive, not race. Let the others fall away as you benefit from your slow pacing and gentle running. I would be surprised if they shorten a portion of the race. High 90's is one thing, but north of 100 could even push their limits of tolerance.

We shall see. It's out of our hands now. All we can do is show up and do our best with what we have been given. No doubt there will be an interesting race report to follow.

Good luck to us all!

Reflection and tapering

I type this as I ride on the trainer in front of the movie Chef. Forgive the staccato nature of this sweat induced post. 

Another long 6 months is coming to and end. As we look forward and see the end in sight, just two weeks away, and the promise of rest in the near future.

Suffering is part and parcel of our training. Add to the mix, small children and developing careers and suddenly the training will seem that much more challenging. Sitting across the aisle from it all, spectating as others fight to even get their training done brings a realization in to focus that when all you have is training to deal with, you have it quite easy. Admittedly, it is tiring and my body is most certainly the most displeased with me that it has ever been, however, when I tire I get to sleep and rest. I'm not awoken in the night by a restless child, or by the thoughts of a very important meeting in the morning. Whilst others work, I have the benefit of relaxing at home with the most challenging part of my day deciding which part of the house to clean. When we believe our lives are challenging and full of strife, sometimes it serves to take a moment to reflect and, although difficult and a little tiring, it's likely that somewhere in the world, someone else's life is far more difficult.

The trouble with tapering, is that old adage of idle hands. Luckily, we have our everyday lives that keep us busy. However, when you've been training 16hours a week for the last 4 weeks, although you embrace the rest that is afforded to you during tapering, the ironman athlete tends to get a little "fidgety" during the final two weeks. It's important to peer through the keyhole of your life and keep yourself busy around the house. Fortunately, from now until we leave for Couer D'Alene, our front door will be a revolving hotel door with visitors abounding and keeping us entertained for the next 10 days. Oh, and Napoleon is having the small shindig for 400 people that our gullible group of friends offered to help with. What were with thinking :) My dearest wife will turn the illustrious age of 35 which will also keep us occupied for most of next Sunday. The poor lady always seems to have her birthday around one of my races. How inconsiderate, I alway tell her ;) It will be a great send off for our 10 days of traveling that will take us from the western USA all the way to Europe....and back!

We've managed to truly get in to the lake and wade out in to the open water for some useful practice. Napoleon and Constitution like the "zigzag" approach to open water swimming. Quite frankly, we pay a lot to do this race, so might as well use the WHOL course! :) I will say though, a glassy lake, whilst the sun crests the horizon, truly is one of the most peaceful and relaxing ways to spend your morning. Truly special! The water is cool and crisp at a balmy 60 degrees fahrenheit. Rumour has it that Lake Couer D'Alene beautiful and normally chilly waters (it's glacial fed) are going to be warmer than usual this year. Great for the swim. Not so special for the run. As regular readers know, I can often me found hesitantly approaching a body of water, less than keen to discover what lies beneath. However, I truly am looking forward to this swim and it's beautiful surroundings. Here's hoping it's a day of weather to befit the geographical surroundings.

Once again, unfortunately, I find myself entering tapering with injuries that will effect my race. My knee is the culprit this time around. The good news it is making my hip pain pale in comparison. The bad news is that I suspect it will have quite the impact on the 3rd discipline of the day. Fortunately, it appears to have zero effect on swimming and biking. Unfortunately, there's a marathon at the end, which may show itself to be more of a death march than normal. I have been able to deal with the pain (don't panic! I am not running anymore) and hope a run walk strategy will allow me to get the job done. There is simply not a chance that I will miss this race, as long as my legs will carry me, I will be starting in two weeks. Some intelligent racing and good decisions (not including the one to race on a bad knee) will hopefully carry me to the finish. Even if it means that I finish just before midnight. So be it. I do not wish to let my charity, and all those who have contributed to it, down. I doubt there will be any PB/PR's out there on June 28th, but at least we will be there. Quite frankly, the race will be straight forward. Getting up at 7am the next day will be the hard part!

The tapering will really kick in this week. Just a 2-3 hour ride this Wednesday morning. After a good cleaning, "My Boy Blue" will be dropped off at the shipping shop, beginning it's journey out to Idaho. The good news is we don't have to dismantle and pack up the bike or reassemble on the other end. Makes the cost well worth it! Even though the week will provide a busy schedule outside of training, I'm looking forward to being pre-occupied with anything other than training. 

Challenges...they are what makes us

Challenges and failure allows us to develop in to the people we are today. Without these we lose the foundation of life that fills the bags of experience that we carry on our backs throughout each of our journeys. We must fail. It's simple. The Wright Bros. failed multiple times before achieving flight for the first time. Imagine if they had achieved flight with their first efforts. We would never have known all the multiple dynamics that are involved without theirs (and others) falling short of the grade the first few times.

Challenges can manifest themselves in many different ways and likewise their subsequent failures. So far, this week has been nothing but challenges. However, challenges that I may face will be completely different to challenges others could face that same day. In both cases, those hills that we must climb will continue to make us who we are in subsequent days. Those gradients are often less enjoyable than we would like. Mainly because they result in undesirable outcomes, or failures as we might perceive them to be. They may be small or grandiose in our own eyes. What we subsequently take away from those grand climbs in life will gives us the tools to attack tomorrow's.

Last weeks training began as normal. The first hard week or two before we dial it back and begin to taper. The long ride was a joy. Early, and very sleepy, start the morning. The wind was calm and temperature ideal. It couldn't have been a better day. 

105 miles later we were done. A quick change and out the door Maggy and I trotted for a short "transition run", during which my knee decided it was going to challenge me. Pain. Noticeable and unwelcome pain. No twisting, impacting or any of your typical knee induced trauma. Just the first few steps, like an ambush. It didn't prevent my striding, but it made it uncomfortable. Ice was applied and off we went to the pub :). The next day Constitution and I hit the cool, calm waters of our local lake for an early swim. Pristine swimming conditions would be an understatement.

It was gorgeous! However, just a few strokes in to the session and goggles began to leak and break. No spares were around and the session was very short lived. A decision to return that afternoon with fresh goggles (and spares) was made. The afternoon did not afford us the tranquility we had welcomed in the morning. High waves (for a lake) and healthy winds were now on the menu.  This was going to be a challenging swim. It went very well, despite the challenges of the choppy, green and cloudy lake water. It was this lake water that was to be the downfall and new challenge of the week. Despite my best efforts, I did sample some of the water that afternoon. Not a good vintage and one I don't recommend, and nor does my body. The body began a sit-in protest the next day. Despite my best efforts on Friday and Saturday, the the lake's inner secrets won over my stomach and body and knocked me for six. It was like watching your favourite boxer take a direct hit and kiss the mat. This took care of the rest of the weeks training. I did manage a painful 8 mile run Saturday morning, which was another failure of the week. Knee pain, coupled with knocking my immune system down further, made that run a key run for all the wrong reasons.

Now Tuesday has arrived and weakness remains from the bacteria that attacked the belly's inner musings. Slowly getting back, my body hacking through the mess that the fever left behind, finding it's way out in to clearer pastures. This challenge has enforced more of a taper that I would have liked. However, it will allow me to experience a new approach. It will also keep me from running. Something my knee would appreciate, along with my immune system. A positive: the timing is certainly better than last year, occurring 4 weeks from race day instead of 10 days.

There have indeed be many challenges followed by failures this week and the impact is undoubtedly still ongoing. However, it is for ourselves that we should welcome them, even if we don't set out the bunting and ticker tape parade for their arrival, because they will allow us self improvement for each day, and the next. The outcome may be cloudy and obscured initially, but it will clear as the sun comes up and sheds light on our better selves. This I truly hope is the case, but one I can not deny has shown itself to be many times in the past.

Good luck to us all!

P.s. This could not be more evident for English cricket. As I type, they are failing miserably at the challenges New Zealand are throwing their way!

The Hotel Bike

As sweat slowly falls from my cap like the first rain drop of a summer downpour.  Falling down to its conclusion on the base of the bike, it explodes in to a wave of drops in every direction. It is then that I chuckle to myself at the situation in which I am yet again compelled to. The excessively wide seat. The awkwardly placed pedals. The attempt at aerobars jutting up and in to the air at a particularly awkward angle. Yet, the hotel bike is what's for dinner. No other choice but to get on and be violated by that saddle. 

There is a love/hate type relationship between myself and hotel gyms. I imagine it to be similar to the ever disappointing favourite sports team who eternally disappoint you, but you continue to return to them like a loyal dog each week. Every week the hunt is on to find a place with a bike trainer with a narrow saddle and a good display with the basics. So often the prize isn't found and the key card is inserted in to the gym's lock. The door slowly opens and reveals that creaky old bike. A small sigh later and I hop up and begin the mornings ride. 

I don't think I have ever been so driven by the idea of a workout to be completed as when I find myself on such a machine. The sweet relief that ensues when dismounting this animal with a newly shaped arse can be very satisfying, tinged with the knowledge that next week will undoubtedly provide another hotel gym experience. 

With a joyous and ever welcome recovery week in full flow, the wide saddled, awkward and uncomfortable hotel bike session was more forgiving this time around. A look forward to next week presents the ever ominous title of "IM Hard". Two weeks of unforgiving and relentless volume and then the welcoming views of "taper" come in to view. The week gets shorter and the fatigue gets better. 

A quick look at the digital date brightly presented on my phone, jutting out like a flashing neon sign, suddenly seems a bit more significant now. A little over 5 weeks to go and the start line at the edge of Lake Couer D'Alene will lie right in front of us with the longest day ahead. 

Good luck to us all!

Different stages of a long session

There are times during a long, arduous, less than impressive bike or run when your psyche becomes a whole different animal. A point when you even surprise yourself with your not-so-proud thoughts. This would be the "everyone's an a-hole" phase. 

Part of a 5 phase process, the aforementioned phase 3 is preceded by the following. 

There's phase 1 - the "Rocky Balboa" phase. You start out on the, let's say, long bike. 6 hours ahead of you and aboard your trusty stead you feel invincible, like Rocky walking towards the ring with only Mr T to beat. The end of the ride seems far far away, but the legs are fresh and the crotch far from completely crushed at this point. The sun spreads its subtle morning rays across your back and the world seems a great place today. Perhaps a smile finds it's way to your face or even a courtesy wave to your fellow early risers. (Constitution finds it hard to leave this phase)

Phase 2 - the "acceptance you may not be Rocky Balboa" phase. This second phase everything isn't quite lost. Your may have lost that slight spring in your step but you are all warmed up and feel as though a nice healthy sweat is beginning to pool just above your seat and you accept that this is what you expected. A tough day. A day, though, when you can still have a rye smile to you fellow cyclist with a gentle wave across the road or even a slight nod of the head. "That's right my friend of the road, it's great to be out isn't it??"  

The aforementioned phase 3 normally creeps up on you around halfway. Perhaps you forgot to eat a little or went out a little hard during your invincible first phase. It's irrelevant because no matter who even glances in your general direction, they're an asshole. Inexplicably yet decidely so. Your blood sugar is in a deep cavanous hole which you are attempting to dig out of. What has been left is an angry biker who believes they could not possibly do any wrong. They feel angelic in their own eyes, but outside their bubble everyone is the devil. Grrrrr!

They could be the most innocent of gentle folk but you will find something wrong with them. 

Fortunately, this phase doesn't last long. It's often quickly replaced by phase 4, once you have attempted to guzzle down what mashed up food you have overheating off your back pocket. The "okay, I can do this" phase can be a bit of a roller coaster. It often begins with a surge of euphoria founded in the trenches of phase 3 and sprung over the top as you climb back out of the dull drums. You feel reawakened and emboldened by this new feeling. You're friends with everyone again. This can quickly be replaced by fatigue of a new level. Easily forgotten from last year, you can't imagine how you did this before. You know you did, but surely it didn't feel like this. Yet, you plug away knowing that the last phase is ever closer with each step or peddle stroke. You flip back and forth, up and down, until the last phase comes in to view. 

Phase 5 - "gonna make it!"  

Usually founded in the last hour of the session, you are tired and food and drink have almost been exhausted, but you are elated that the end is nigh. Soon you will be yelping in pain in the shower as you discover exactly where parts of the body were chaffing and how bad. However, you will be off that bike, or no longer running and that feeling is the one that takes you over the line...... until 7 days from now when you have to do it all over again!

Good luck to us all!

Cinquo de just do hills

As we find ourselves on yet another "holiday" in America in celebration of another country's independence (insert joke here) I find myself reflecting on the year so far, with a GMO free margarita in hand. 

What particularly comes to mind is Constitution's old favorite. Just do hills! Lots of hills. In fact, every time a hill looms on my vision's horizon a small menacing chuckle pops in to the psyche with his mantra echoing in my fatigued mind. 

What does he mean with this old classic? It's his way of teasing every publication touting the same repetitive guff in each edition. In almost every edition the editors profess to have found the key to "PR" in your next race and almost every time there will be reference to hills. Just do hills! On our long ride the other week Constitution decided he was releasing a new ground breaking magazine and his lead article would be "just eat greens", swiftly followed by "just do hills". 

So what's the point? I'll get to it. So often we  fret over getting it just right or having just the right equipment with the leading widgets and gadgets (I am no exception to this rule). However, ultimately, this is all quite unnecessarily complicated. Just get out there and, to borrow a phrase, do it! Or, as Napoleon loves to say "don't over think it". When the long weeks full of volumous amounts of training begin to set in, just getting out there and getting the job done is key to it all. We could all waste copious amounts of valuable minutes prepping extensively for a long ride - quite frankly, being prepared is in my DNA - however, you could simply throw some food in the back pockets and head out the door for 6 hours. It may not develop in to the greatest training ride in a triathletes life, but the job will be done. None of our group is a world record prospect, or anywhere near winning anything from these races. The within reach goal that we hope for is simply coming down that finish chute with a smile on our faces and the crowd's raucous cheering ringing in our ears. 

So, to recap, just do hills. Just eat greens. Brilliant, now pay me loads of money for that advice and my life will be sorted!

Training recap. The volume is headed to its highest levels for this training. 6 hour rides are a fixture for the next few weeks. Long loops around the beautiful Minneapolis/St Paul metropolitan area, followed by some dehydrating, languid loops around the lakes on foot. 

The hip is mending in the nick of time. A productive visit to the Ortho Doc ensued yesterday. A diagnosis of just do hills wasn't exactly what they said, but she did indeed give me the golden stamp to keep training with a focus on strengthening my, as it turns out, somewhat weak derrière. My regrettable teasing of my wife doing Denise Austin exercises in front of the TV has come back to haunt me. As I perused the the leaflet of exercises recommended to me by sporty doc, no fewer than 8 of the 10 movements are the very same that my nearest and dearest completes every week. She was admirably restraint in her "I told you so's" and was quite eager to demonstrate the moves. I now have a new strength coach :)

This week started well with a good swim yesterday. Last week wasn't too much to write home about but a solid set of sessions nonetheless. Progress is good. I'm sure the oh-so-familiar fatigue will crop up on my shoulder soon enough. However, we are prepared this year. Embrace the fatigue. Welcome it to your world. It's all part of the experience. 

To finish, just a quick update to fundraising efforts. The progress has slowed a little, but is still marching forward at a steady, army like pace. A fresh push towards £2,000 mark is required and will be enacted over the next few weeks. If you are reading this and are being overwhelmed by the urge to donate, feel free to rush to my fundraising page at uk.virginmoneygiving.com/cliffsironman. I hope to get back in July and visit the cricket ground where it all began for me as a cricketer. First, scoring the game as a young 12 yr old, receiving manic arm gestures from the umpires and having my shoulder looked over continuously by anxious batsman wanting to see how their averages have faired. Then, progressing in to the adult team in my 14th year (they must have been short). My one and only century I have ever bothered the scorers with was with Frieth CC. Can't wait to watch a game there in the brilliant British summer sun.

Good luck to us all! 

"Visualisation"

Closely linked to the dreaming season, visualisation is often claimed to help you in training and just prior to a big race. There is no doubt that it can have many benefits whilst you imagine yourself traveling around the delicately laid out course, passing by cheering supporters and weary volunteers. I believe the original goal was likely a professional athlete being paid a meager some by a popular fitness magazine to describe how they are so successful in the sport. One item was likely described as visualising the course, each turn or transition. This was then taken by the amateur world desperate to repeat the kind of success that their idols so often achieve.

However, I suspect/know full well that your typical amateurs, such as myself, often miss the mark when it comes to our "visualisation". So often I will be out on a training session and feel the release of euphoria associated frequently with the 45-60min spot in the swim/bike/run and suddenly visions of spectacular and grandiose finishes and triumphant speeding by competitors explode in to my mind adding even further to the effect of endorphins. An almost smug expression temporarily passes across your sweaty brow as you vividly hear the cheering crowds despite your lonesome surroundings on the running path. This is not the visions, I presume, the original goal had anticipated. It also is most definitely dreaming. The visions so often failing to bring in to focus the fatigue and pain that is often very much part of the slog around an iron distance course. It's like Napoleon always reminds us, "this always f!@#ing hurts". These temporary fantastical vistas that flash across our mind's landscape do not quite do the race justice, but it definitely makes your feel good about the training and allow you to ignore the dominant elements until you meet them with full force right around mile 80.

So what's my point? Well, this year, my visualisation firmly centers around my father. If I ever feel doubt within my training or begin to lose strength in my resolve, I simply visualise a man who can not even walk down the hallway anymore. The privilege was taken away from him and we are left behind to grab those opportunities that are offered to us. This year has made me realize that I often wine or complain far too often when the opportunity presents itself. There is a moment when it hits you that people you love no longer even have that opportunity. If they were offered it again they would grab it with both hands and never consider complaining, grateful for the chance. This is my visualisation. There is no denying that on occasion fantastical visions explode in to my mind of the finishing shoot and all that euphoria, but they are quickly replaced by the sobering picture of my father who can no longer be with me in that euphoric laden tunnel. He may physically not be able to lean up against the barriers of the blue encrusted finishing lines, but his image will be running down there with me. Often I like to celebrate my British heritage with the Union Jack as my finishing buddy for the last half mile of a race. This year it will be different. This year the driving force will be thoughts and visions of running down that finish line with Dad's picture firmly in my grasp. Probably blubbering like an uncontrollable emotional wreck that often envelopes me at the end of a tough endurance race, when there is nothing left to inhibit the floods of relief and joy that crossing the line gives you.

To sum it all up and put a neat bow on it, visualisation can be anything for anyone. For most it is joyous - seeing a new baby at the finish, or hugging your beloved and seeing their cheering faces at the finish. For others it may be a difficult and sometimes sad journey that they have been on and now get to celebrate the conclusion of that. However, for me, I am in no doubt, it will be a joyous one bordered with some sadness, but ultimately showered in the fond memories of Dad and how he and Mum moulded us in to the sports hungry loonies we are today.

Training recap! Recovery week is over and we are now getting to the business end of the training. 5 and 6 hour rides will become standard practice for the next month. Longer runs, to culminate in our longest run of 3 hours will conclude this 6 week stretch. The hip will be under the microscope this week. It is suffering from the running. I suspect tendonitis but will know more this week. The riding is ever improving, I just hope the nutrition can keep pace.

Good luck to us all!

Wake up and smell the butt paste!

Just a short note this week...

The build has begun. We're not building anything significant. No houses, or foundations of anything that will be around for a long time. However, we are now building towards a level of fitness that we will be thankful to have come June 28th. That said, no level of fitness will prepare any body for how cold Lake Coeur D'Alene can be.

It's called a build to reflect how much you are now building on your base. I like to think of it as the "see you in 12 weeks, honey" period. There's a small uptick in length of sessions during the week, but the real increase is in the bike lengths. It's time to reach for the butt paste and lay it on thick. 5 plus hour rides are becoming the norm. Long slogs through the ever improving weather, followed by short runs off the bike. Not the "runs", but an actual run, which could easily be followed by "those runs". Clear as....never mind :)

Tomorrow will host some such a ride. The first ride with Constitution for a couple of years. History dictates at least 3 jackets and 2 inner tubes per rider when he's around. Hopefully, the weather is as forecast and we can finish off the 70 miles without a call for help this time. It'll be good to get out with a fellow athlete for once. Been a lonely few years with many a long ride out on the country roads and trails.

The aches and pains and fatigue are the next things to "build". It takes an exceptional amount of free time to avoid such things. Those of us with time consuming professions struggle to squeeze in the increasing hours and with that the body will naturally begin to suffer. Calf muscles will become sore, immune systems will lag and spirits will occasionally fall. However, it's our family and friends around us who inevitably lift us back up on to our feet. The smile of a wife, baby, or girlfriend will do wonders to spur you on and get out the door when all you want to do is hit snooze (the devils invention :)). The selfish narcissist in all of us helps too! 

Put a toe in the water this week. Quickly discovered we are some way off getting in the lakes. However, I smell the warming coming and hopefully our first swim with the fishes will be upon us. Despite my attitudes of years past, I can't wait to get in the water this year. I remained terrified of "what lies beneath", but have learnt to deal with those fears whilst out in the open. There will still be a high pitched, girlish shriek if I see a great white in the Minnesotan. Fortunately, I hear the chances are remote. No doubt Napoleon and Constitution will think of something.

I'm off to double order some shammy lube and butt paste. Here's hoping for a blister free year of outdoor riding!

Good luck to us all! 

Spring, I presume?

The great thing about Minnesota spring is the roller coaster ride that mother nature takes you on. She teases you first with a taste of the warm weather. She might even suggest winter has entirely passed on and summer is roaring over the horizon. Just as you think the you're in the home stretch, she smashes you back down to earth with a good, bleak winter snow event. Just for good measure. She will then tease you a little again with a quick melt and a warming trend, but this time with howling winds from the plains ensuring a frigid feel for the day. 

So, why the focus on the weather, I hear you ask. It is because that type of teasing plays with the fragile triathlete's (or any other outdoor athlete for that matter) mind. You've been rooted in that basement and on that treadmill to oblivion for too long. The whiff of an outdoor ride or run is enticing to a fault. That's when you find yourself out and about in Vermont. It's 50 degrees on the fahrenheit scale and you think "it's not that bad.... The wind isn't that strong.... I can make this work in shorts and t-shirt" It would be shortly after this discussion, involving one, that you find yourself being hailed on, with wind gusts of about 40mph as you stubbornly and belligerently circumnavigate a track workout, refusing to stop until you're done. Upon returning from the outdoors, a quick check in the mirror reveals a somewhat rosy ear and blood shot thighs and a suggestion that perhaps a treadmill run would have been a better option.

Just two days later my faith in spring is renewed by the calm, clear weather in the recently tornado-ridden Tulsa. The weather is perfect for a nice run along the river. A quick check of the calendar reveals that perhaps a poor choice was made earlier in the week, as a swim is now on the cards. Note to self: Swim when it's hailing. Run outdoors when it's sunny. Check. Even though the beauty of a sunny run was missed, a very pleasant indoor pool swim (and most importantly, a free indoor pool swim) was to be had at St John's Hospital, who cleverly hides a fitness center within it's medical walls. Great facilities. One to be kept in the memory banks for the future. 

Faith in spring was temporarily restored as I found myself with 4hours to kill in the airport in Kansas. I pleasantly discover that it is quite possibly one of the best for sneaking out for a run. With 12 miles to kill, the endless rolling plains of Kansas provided the backdrop for the next couple of hours. Good practice for the mental side of the game, as wind, sun and bland concrete roads adorned with shocking driving made for the entertainment. 

This is where I shall share my training trick in this kind of environment, where the long run is made to feel even longer that necessary by the bland vista that is presented to you. Books on tape! This is something I have discovered only recently. A good book on tape provides you with a running partner that lets time slip by, ensuring the run assumes the form of a short training run and not a long slug fest on concrete. Might I recommend "The Boys in the Boat" for your first foray in to this little trick.

Mother nature continued her assault on Minneapolis towards the end of the week. Teasing with an hour of sun, followed by two hours of torrential rain and wind, just as I wanted to get out the door. Thus, now relegated back to the basement, the movie rental menu was perused and entertainment carefully selected for the next four hours of basement biking. Good entertainment is simply a must. Once you find yourself north of 3 hours on an indoor trainer, each 15 minute block feels like a marathon of a bike ride. The psychology is fascinating. Therefore, good distractions are a must. Unbroken and Into The Woods duly served up said distractions, although those last 15 minutes still took on the guise of a slow moving clock.

A recovery week is ensuing. At the completion of this week, we are officially half way there. Aches and pains are beginning, with the niggles and soreness that is common as half way approaches. The pace will be ratcheted up next week with a push beginning for the higher mileages.

Good luck to us all!  

Going long.....er

It's hard to believe it is week 10. Approaching the halfway mark of our journey to Couer D'Alene. It seemed like only yesterday that I sneakily entered this years Ironman race whilst sitting on my parent's sofa in Frieth.

Week 10 has been a strong week. After initially suffering with a bit of a cold and sore throat, some good choices and good drugs later, I found myself able to complete all the necessaries for the week. It all seemed to be going swimmingly well until a strange noise came from the laundry room as the 30 minute mark was approaching the sweaty trainer session being conducted in the basement living room. Turns out the washing machine had indeed become possessed and shuffled its way across the room and shaken the life out of itself. I believe the repair stated that he had never seen such damaged to a washer in his 13 years as a tech. I said I was happy for his discovery whilst ushering him out of the door and headed for the laptop to discover what the damage would be. It brought great amusement and a wry smile to my face as my local resource for such household goods is an outlet store nearby and its webiste stated that the replacement would cost approx. $695 - this just happens to be about the same price as an  Ironman race entry fee. Perhaps someone was trying to tell me something!

Nevertheless, not one to identify with such wish wash I duly soldier on with the week and kept up the training. Magggy, my trusty labrador sidekick and running pacer (she's awful at warming up) came out for the short run of the week. I didn't quite calculate in my mind how tough of a run this was planned to be and as the intervals began, all of a sudeen I found her behind me with a look on her face that could only be described as "tongue out WTF!" However, she is a fit dog and never one to be detered from a challenge. My running partner for the day dug in and stayed with me and, due to some poor communication with my dearest partner in life, managed to achieve double food for dinner. That, combined with the longer run made for a good sleep for Maggy that night.

Spring has been trying to arrive recently. I felt it appropriate, therefore, to attempt another, longer ride outside this week. There is something very satisfying about arguing within yourself whether you really want to accomplish something in a given day and winning that argument (the joys with an argument involving just one person!). The internal struggle, knowing you should do it, but not seemingly having the energy to. Fortunately, I have a great motivator this year in my father's memory helping to overcome such struggles and head out the door everytime. The real joy of forcing yourself out the door is invariably laid bare to you after a few minutes in to the effort, once warmed up and presented with beautiful views or peaceful surroundings.

You come across a particular sight which releases a euphoria in you and makes it all worth the while. Well, it's all poetic until you reach 3 hours in and the wind is freezing, you can't feel your toes and the 3rd driver in a row has tried to run you off the rode, but that view will keep you going for a while at least.

The long ride was a good one, all that aside. The first big ride of the year, testing distances of years past, leads to rediscovering familiar rodes that at the end of last season were a bane of your existence. Being forced to flog their trails week in and week out. However, that first ride of the season renews your love affair with the familiar routes and reminds you why you chose them to begin with. You will discover new potholes and road works and see which country houses are becoming ever bigger. I personally rediscover the love side of my love/hate relationship with riding - the peaceful country roads where it is only you and the bike and long, undulating hills carrying you like a wave back in to the shore of home. It reminds me of the English countryside where I grew up and brings an ease in to my spin.

The week will be rounded out tomorrow with a nice long run around our lakes. It's always nice to have fellow runners by your side and this week will offer just that. A good natter during a run forces you to forget any obsession over your electronics or worry about pacing and just run. It often offers up surprises when the run is over and a quick inspection of said electronics quite often reveal pleasing times and pace. It really does promote the idea of heading out the doors of life and not overthinking it ("Napoleon's" favourite phrase)

Anyway, it's time to be off on this great day off which will hopefully see the French trounced by the English in the rugby and a 6 nations trophy delivered back to it's rightful place, swiftly followed by a win for my beloved Hammers!

Good luck to us all!

P.s. My new jacket arrived too!

Time waits for no one....

It's March 7th 2015. Exactly two months ago we had my father's funeral. The phrase "time waits for no man" is such a simple exclamation. It almost flippantly rolls off the tongue. Yet, when you lose someone who you love, the clock relentlessly ticks along, taking you further and further away from the last time you saw that person and all of a sudden this simple phrase has so much more meaning.

I find myself back in England's Chiltern Valley once again for the weekend to say a final goodbye to Dad. That said, I don't necessarily see this as an altogether sad occasion. I find it quite an appropriate moment to spread his ashes on the top of a hill with one of the most astounding views of the valley below. No matter what it is you choose to believe in, no one can contest that this view is an honor to any individual to have as their final place. 

These thoughts drive me on as my feet pound the asphalt that weaves its way throughout the Hambleden Valley. These views are tireless in how they impress me no matter how many times I return here. To run the roads and through the villages is a privilege. A privilege that dad loved and frequently abused hiking hours upon end throughout the valley, knowing more footpaths and routes than anyone I can think of. Although I spent my formative years tearing around these roads and footpaths, time has allowed me to forget some of them, permitting me to be surprised with the familiarity as I find myself among hedge rows that tweak the memories.

After a slight scare at the end of week 6 - a calf strain - after lot of TLC and some smart training choices, the jet lag ran was the testing bay for the first run in 7 days. Although I wouldn't use the phrase "flying colours", the calf did indeed play well and just over 6 miles of road was crossed pain free. Even the small lambs that I came across running rogue out of the field (promptly returned to their field with some expert jogging shepherd skills) were impressed by how well the calf was doing. I asked them :). 

Week 8 will be ushered in with the helping hand of my brother. With a little bit of luck (thank you My Fair Lady) we will make a splash in the Handy Cross lap pool together for the first time since we were 8. I suspect we shall be equally competitive, even if we are older and "wiser". Where's the fun in non-compete swimming?! Although, I may still have to have a serious go at winning the "holding your breath under water championships". I doubt the lifeguards or our fellow lane mates will be too impressed by that competition. Amazingly, the pool is in the same spot and about the same condition as it was when we left it 30 years ago, albeit with a promising renovation under way. Hope they've changed the water though!

 It's time to be off and workout how in the world I'm going to complete this week of training. However, what is never in doubt is the way my father's memory drives me on this year and relentlessly motivates to work as hard as my body will allow me. If you are reading this and even remotely find it interesting, please take a moment to visit www.uk.virginmoneygiving.com/cliffsironman and pledge any amount you see fit. 

Good luck to us all!

Time for some goals and other trivial things

End of February? How could this be? End of February means week 8. Blimey Charlie, that's two months in to training. Who would have thought, looking back at certain "absolutely not" posts from last autumn and winter, that we would have found ourselves at week 8 of ironman training in 2015?!

Nevertheless, the training just keeps trucking along. There have been some pool work with Constitution in recent times. It's good to have someone in the lane with you for some good old swim camaraderie. Training in winter is lonely at the best of times, often spent on lonely immovable training appliances in hot sweaty gyms/rooms with questionable grunting coming from over pumped up individuals. Therefore, to have a familiar face in the lanes is gratefully received. It does not, however, lead to time efficiency in the pool. "Rests" taking longer and longer as you chat about how training is going and generally have a good old fashion chinwag which is more akin to a water aerobics class (controversial!). 

The long bike proved to be one of the more satisfying events of the week. Admittedly hard to believe, riding 3 hours indoors can actually be quite satisfying. The difference between 2.5hrs and 3hrs is staggering. Those extra 30 minutes can feel like an epic

movie production. It's seemingly such a short time, but when rooted to the floor of an underground cavern with sweat pouring from every inch of skin those 30 minutes will grind on you. To somewhat gleefully spin away those last 30 minutes, in part thanks to Downton Abbey and in other thanks to some better nutrition, is very satisfying. It's still a bit cold out to head out the door for a transition run, and by a bit cold I imagine my drenched self heading out the door and instantly freezing in to a triathlon ice sculpture. Therefore, unless there's a treadmill handy, they will be on hold until we crack in to the 30'sF. 

3.5hrs is on the proverbial chopping block next week. We shall see if I'm still so cheery then!

With the weekend at my disposal, I get to relax a bit with only the long run in my sights. Hopefully Mrs Victory will join me in the cold for part of the run. 

Now for the laying down of certain gauntlets that can be risky. Goal setting. Having cast my mind back to last summers grueling, painful and yet fully enjoyable experience in Boulder, I begin to consider a time worthy of the memory of my father. Just finishing and raising the money for his trust is indeed a good enough goal. However, those who knew him know that my father and I shared a competitive spirit, albeit his more subtle than mine. I think he and I would love to see me cross the line in 13hrs and 15mins. Odd number? Well, it is derived from the desire to crack 7hrs on the bike and 5hrs on the run. Leaving a lofty goal of a quick swim and equally quick transition. To be honest, just going sub 13:30 would be a joy, so why not dangle a challenge carrot in front of the traithletic horse?! 

So with it out there, I might as well go and get on with it. 

Good luck to us all!!

Baby, it's cold outside!

There are times when the "lows' will kick in during training for an iron distance race. It will never let you know when it's going to happen. You will simply awake and realize that the "low" has been waiting for you at the end of the bed, ready for when you. Ready to slap you in the face the minute you realize there is a long run in your immediate future.

To add insult to injury, it would also have to occur on one of the coldest mornings of the year. Never one to shirk a challenge and head to the treadmill, after what seemed like two days worth of endless cold weather dress preparation, I was out the door. It is always immediately apparent how cold it has gotten. The first most immediate sign is when your "gentleman bits" raise the white flag like a Frenchman heading to war and then shift off back so far inside your body that you worry whether they will ever come out again (the gentleman bits, not the Frenchman!) Luckily, you quickly warm up with your own sweat and heat release. Little do you know that the few loonies who are also out for a stroll are getting a entirely different picture. As far as they are concerned, the abominable snowman is headed right for them. This one perhaps with a contagious disease. Any form of moisture that has escaped you being has immediately refrozen the minute it has spread more than a millimeter away from you comforting warmth. That includes, but is not limited to, sweat, snot, snot rockets that have gone wrong and any other form of fluid that should not be discussed in polite company.

After the body was "warmed up" for the day, it was fast apparent that the heat had not chased off the "lows" of training. Perhaps a little too much too soon, or a little over-zealous on the long bike the day before, had left me with little energy for this brisk, winter wonderland run. It was decided, perhaps with the heavy influence of the outside temps, that the "long run" would quickly become somewhat shortened and a hasty retreat was initiated after a short 6 miles.

We are quickly in to week 6 now. The time is flying by. Too put it in to context, we are a quarter of the way through the 24 week programme. It is unclear as to whether fitness has remained from the previous season, or whether the training is becoming such common place that is seems to fit in to everyday life......or there is the third option..... that we haven't hit the real training yet. Easily referred to as the "walking around like a zombie" or the "kiss your family goodbye" portion of the training plan. This is typically the second half when everything seems to get that little bit longer. A false sense of security is currently enveloping my psyche, like a warm blanket on a winters night. Giving a warm and happy glow, only to be stolen from you as you throw off the blanket to discover the cold truth of the day.

Here's hoping that it could be some of the former, but as Napoleon says, it always f@!#ing hurts! Week 6 did get off to a good start though, with my first early morning swim in the books with Constitution. We hadn't worked out together in a while, so it was a good morning to get caught up. Caffeine pales in comparison with the effects of jumping in to a cold pool in the morning. The pool's ability to full awaken you in the shortest time possible beats coffee hands down. Although, coffee does taste an awful lot better!

As the snow falls outside my window (reminding just how much I love winter) spring is not far around the corner. Soon the clocks will be leaping forward and the snow will be dripping outside my window, with the promise of getting out on the clear roads only 6 weeks away. That groundhog better stop seeing his shadow and let us triathletes get on it!

Good luck to us all!

One month check up

We find ourselves now in to week four of training. The weeks are flying by like a fast flowing river in spring. The snow is still falling outside our windows and the basement continues to steam up at the behest of continual trainer pedaling. 

The television morning programs are beginning to proclaim only one month until spring, a familiar sound as Minnesotans grow tied of the cold they only longed for a few months ago. However, the enjoyment of more outside riding on my trusty new fat tire stead make me long for a bit more snow and some colder weather. Yesterday, as flakes slowly fell from above, I pedaled around the friendly cycle lanes of my favorite city quite happy - and sweaty for that matter - instead of being pinned down in the basement spinning fast and going nowhere. There are still the necessary weekly ventures down in to dark and cold catacombs to pedal for hours on end, honing the aero position's muscles in preparation for the elusive spring that promises to be around the corner. Once that day arrives we will find ourselves that much closer to the next Ironman in Idaho, or Ironman IV as I am calling it. The races viewed as a relentless movie franchise that doesn't seem to give in and keeps churning out the sequels year after year. My sequels have a lot less explosions and gun fights, but equal amounts of excitement and half naked bodies (albeit clad in Lycra). I wonder if we will make it to Iroman X???

Something unique happened during week 4. The wretched alarm clock was set for an ungodly wake up at 5am. The goal to trudge down to the basement for a 45min spin before heading out in to the frigid air and to work. This time proved different. The alarm announced itself to the room with the pomp of trumpeters announcing a royal is coming. After shock has worn off, I calmly roll over and hit snooze with zero intentions of satisfying my goals today. There was an article published last year regarding training to feel. The pro triathlete featured only trained when her body approved. Realizing that in actual fact, our bodies don't benefit from flogging out a workout just to get it done when it actual fact we would be better off choosing the easier and less strenuous option. I have preached such grandiose lessons before, but rarely have I come to recognize them for myself. Today was the day. It became apparent the body was much fatigued from the previous day's joyous, snow filled rides around town, also preceded by an overzealous strength session. It was indeed time to recognize that the body needed to pull in to the rest stop and enjoy a snooze. It duly did. 

The other benefit from such snoozing was the right ankle. Forever a burden to this whole training thing, it's never shy to throw in its two cents from the back benches whining about my unfair policies. Time for a physical compromise to let the poor fella get some rest. The way I sleep seems to dictate it's soreness each morning. The exact and most relieving position is face down, foot dangling off end of bed. Known sideeffects involve cat attacks and subsequent shooing, followed by sleep interruptus from mild heart attack. However, when this method is diligently followed, my ankle awakes in a joyous mood ready to take on the next hair brained scheme of the day. Here's hoping for many more of those mornings. 

As week 5 looms on the proverbial horizon we are well and truly back in to the swing of things. The original 3 triathletes of "Victory" (that's me naturally), "Napoleon" and "Constitution" of Ironman France days are hoping for a repeat of that day in 2012 when we'll crossed the line with beaming smiles on our faces (less sunburn for me this time please). I'm excited for our hibernation to be over soon and for the 3 of us to head out the door for a swim in the lake or a bike along the rolling, winding  and relentlessly pot-hole-ridden roads of Minnesota. But before then, there will be some fun pool sessions and likely sore-arsed trainer sessions involving many movie trilogies to pass the time. 

Good luck to us all!

Winter warmers slowing us down

One week in and it is certainly apparent that this winter has allowed a little wayward winds to carry the fitness a little of course. However, the seas are slowly calming and training is fully back in swing and being enjoyed for now.

It certainly helps that one has the motivation of raising money for a fantastic trust in the Bucks Youth Cricket Trust, who began and spurred my sporting life as a youth cricketer. There is no doubt that the drive and commitment that playing youth cricket with Marlow Park CC laid the foundations of what my sport enthusiasm is today. 

That drive kept me alive this week with a few good sessions in the pool and some solid times on the bike. That said, when you find yourself on a long indoor trainer ride of two hours, struggling to make it past 1hour 30mins, it is a sobering occasion, wondering how on earth you will make it 13hours out on course. It is precisely that drive to finish the trainer ride and the satisfaction of persevering to the end that drives you forward through the thick brush that is the woods of training, towards the start line.

So far so good for the initial week. It feels good to be back in the swing of things and having a common pattern to follow again. The hard part will be encouraging everyone to make a contribution to the cause and reaching the lofty goal I have set myself. Training will be the easy part. Ha!

The pool session was certainly a good one, courtesy of the Appleton YMCA in Wisconsin. A very nice pool with some good lap sessions and great equipment to borrow from. I really lost myself in that swim. In the zone, as some call it. Seemingly, the swim flew by and before I knew it, 3500 yards was over.

The bike sessions were also productive. Two hours spent in the basement with my wife ironing next to me watching Downton Abbey. Now that's a good bike session. Allowed me to forget the pain and suffering I was going through during the pedal-a-thon. Not many triathletes can claim that kind of environment. What a lady I'm married to!

The running is being cautiously pursued. There is a combination of fatigue from marathoning and a bit of ankle soreness. Some smart decision making is needed in this area so that nothing small swells in to something a little more menacing that may curtail any future plans.

However, some more pressing issues need to be discussed. If you are reading this, anything that you may be able to contribute to the cause that I am championing by training and competing in this Ironman race will be welcomed with open arms. My fundraising website is http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/cliffsironman and I would appreciate you visiting the site and giving as you see fit. The whole story that may give some understanding as to why we are pursuing this year's race is laid out for you there. Please have a read and let's all join together to support such a good cause. I sincerely hope that by raising money for such a trust will allow many Buckinghamshire Youth to enjoy the classic game the way I was lucky enough to do as a child.

Good luck to us all!

Day 1 all over again

It's currently somewhere around 0 degrees Fahrenheit and we are back in Minnesota. It's been two weeks since I lost my father. Training for my fourth ironman is about to begin.

Quite possibly the least inviting set of circumstances to begin 24 weeks of training one could ask for. Dipping my toes in to the seemingly ice cold waters of the local community pool there was a multitude of other far more appealing situations leaping in to my mind that I would have rather been doing. However, after the first few hundred yards and with Billy Joel streaming through my mind, I found myself increasingly enjoying the swim. Whether driven by the fact that the water appeared colder than ever, probably as a result of a distinct lack of time in it, or that Billy Joel was singing a particularly good rendition of Innocent Man in my head but all of sudden I found myself remembering the joy of being in the water. The promise of an end goal that gives great purpose to training so hard and so long for a challenge that is the longest day.  Raising money for my Dad's favourite charity, The Bucks Youth Cricket Trust.

It would be easy to think that, as this is my fourth iron distance event, this could be a walk in the park. Just like all the others. It always hurts. However, to know that putting a big goal at the end of the proverbial tunnel is the driving force that will steer me to the end with a goal of shattering both time and fundraising goals. The hope of raising money for such a just and appropriate cause and leaving a strong legacy for my father's memory will be the strongest motivator I have ever had to outperform all previous results. He ran next to me in my first two iron distance races. Jogging slowly a long next to me as I inched towards the end of the run leg. Boosting my psyche at the same point on each loop of the course. That energy will drive me on in Idaho on race day.

Heading out for the first long trainer ride tomorrow. Better pick a good movie to start on. Don't want to be too miserable this basement, too cold to be outside, season. Sweat towels await!

Good luck to us all!