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!