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.

Back in the gym

It's been a tough three weeks. The love of running and the freedom it gives you is contagious. To be presented with some of the favourite runs in the nation over the last 3 weeks and not able to run them was a form of torture. The chance to run around Flushing Meadows was missed. The first beautiful day of spring was missed. Many of my favourite times.

Yet, something was indeed gained. A new element to training. A new recovery tool. Aqua jogging. Water running. Whatever is the term you choose. Mocked as being an old people's game, this pool time jovial-ness has afforded a new outlet for recovery. When the muscles are sore or the foot is being temperamental, a new option to slap the incredibly bouyant float belt on and start running. It's liberating in a way. Perhaps even meditative. You're not going to go anywhere fast. Many will look at you with a cocked head and wonder why such a youthful, good looking guy is trying to tread water for so long. Isn't that for the old folks? Even the old folks (of whom I met a few during my aqua jogging) will look at you with an arms length stare. "What is this fella doing??"

However, the reward for the muscles is there. The ability to maintain that level of fitness and let the body avoid the constant jarring of outdoor running that is indeed detrimental to damage recovery. Many a runner thinks that those running in the water are suffering from stress fractures and more serious injuries. However, I for one, will be using it in the future when the week is catching me up and I need a little bit of a backward step in order to keep moving forward. 

The foot still has it's days, but the time is right to slowly begin to fun again. The ankle has stopped complaining. The foot can be "irritating", yet a balanced recovery should put me back in good stead. Should.

The weeks are beginning to get more demanding, from a training perspective. The now familiar jump to 3 hour rides and transition runs. The ending of the base and the beginning of some serious time management.

Good luck to us all!

Throw back!

They think it's all over! Well......

That's my right ankle. Pretty, isn't it. Such graceful body lines are a gift - by gift I mean hinderance. 

For many years I have abused my ankles. Many moons of smashing around a soccer field, which my ankles informed me during my late twenties and early thirties was a terrible idea. They way they like to inform their owner of these things is to roll over on you and send you shrieking like Luis Suarez have been judo chopped on the football pitch. They do this periodically. Mostly at your behest, as you take on another ill sort after footie match with a bunch of over forties. All of which have their own ailments and none of which you believe you are like, physically. Yet, after each of these yearly games, where you charge around the field like a well oiled machine without the remotest thought toward taking it easy or being sensible, or the fact that this just might leave you sore for a week.

Those type of decisions is what lead me to an MRI table and an oh-so-familiar radio station menu to chose from, in order to drown out the loud obnoctious machine. This would be the third or fourth MRI on my ankles post excessive sideways activity. You'd think I'd take a hint.

Naturally, when the results find their way to you in an express fashion, not 45 minutes post scan, you mind flies to the "end of the world" scenario. It's all gone wrong! How will I make it through summer after they hack my ankle open?? Such vivid questions swirl in an ever busy mind. It's a natural path I think. Some minds are stronger than others and manage to keep such thoughts at bay.  Not my mind, no matter how hard I try.

Then came the consultation and the advice, post x-ray showing no "Wayne Rooney" fifth metatarsel breaks, to take up aqua jogging and lay off running for three weeks. Suddenly, celebration mode kicks in. Doom and gloom has turned to a small ray of sunshine cresting over the horizon. Perhaps my Ironman career isn't over. Perhaps I just might make it. 

Now the excitement brews for a new experiment in the pool. Me and my flotation belt take the the deep waters of the musty pool at lunch time.  Suddenly profoundly aware of how much like a dreadmill this is. Running with no place to go. Then that thought is trumped by the sudden rise in heart rate and the awareness that this lark is quite tiring. Perhaps there's hope at the end of the fitness tunnel!

This morning the legs were appropriately fatigued, as if I had actually gone for a long jog. Quite the fascinating result from a short 35 minutes of aqua jogging. Now, if I could just shed this cold, everything can start heading back to normal. 

More torture is due this weekend. Three long hours on the indoor trainer should provide the appropriate amount of menotony to force state secrets out of any international spy. At least at home I get a good movie to pass the time. On the road you have to make do and sometimes that involves a blank wall and a pool of sweat.

Here's hoping for a pain free week and a quick recovery!

Good luck to us all!

Set Backs

The dictionary states that the definition of a set back is "an unanticipated or sudden check in progress; a change from better to worse". That's how it felt yesterday whilst they slid me in to the MRI for a scan on my right ankle.

The news hasn't sunk in just yet. Next week, a trip to the specialists office in the order of the day. A discussion will be held about how to progress with my "quite damaged" ankle. You know it's bad when you haven't even parked the car back in your garage having just returned from the MRI when the phone rings with the unwelcome results.

3 damaged tendons. One "missing" ligament. Bone fragments floating around. That's the generalization of the situation. How did this all happen? Well, the fear is that it occurred during a game of soccer/football about 6 weeks ago. Probably weakened due to the numerous ankle rolls during my youth. Add in the full amount of training that has occurred over the last 3 years. The odd element is that there hasn't been any pain up until that fateful game about 6 weeks previous. Not a sign. Yet, it would appear that the ankle could have been primed to go.

Frankly, it's all irrelevant now. The specialist will give the full, unedited view next Wednesday with all the available options. Surgery would put a serious damper on the season, but may be the best option. I will fight to keep that option at the bottom and strive to repair my ankle with the minimal of invasion. That said, it may be a losing battle at this stage. 

Napoleon said yesterday that there is more to life than an Ironman. It is indeed an addictive lifestyle. However, this disadvantage needs to be turned to an advantage. Swimming will be the focus for now. Lots of available hours to improve upon the efficiency of stroke and all that bollocks! It must be seen as another step in the education of life, filling that bag full of experience.

Good luck to us all (my ankle in particular)!

Kicking it up a notch

Spring is attempting to sneak it's way past winter and get a strong hold on the weather. It's trying it's best, but winter's beer belly is being a bully and not relinquishing it's hold just yet. Yet, spring did make a bit of an appearance this week and allowed the first outdoors ride of the season (not including England). The first ride of the season always results in a mandatory bike clean and some muddy, grit ridden bike clothes. It's the best part. No matter what, the smile won't leave the faces of those who venture out on this unrivaled day of the year. You may be soaked. You may be covered in grit and sand. your bike may well be completely sanded from back wheel to front. However, you keep on smiling and riding. It's infectious, at least until 20 inches of snow falls on Friday!

The training has suddenly ratcheted it up a notch. Two-a-days have smashed back on to the scene, reminding me how long it takes to get back to full race fitness. The schedule begins to get tighter and the inventiveness needs to be all that more, well, inventive.

The foot is almost back to normal. Managed one run and the ankle didn't seem to cry out too much. Although, as is common with the multitude of ankle injuries I have experienced in my life, the other muscles around the ankle tend to become a little cranky as a result. Induced by the warmer climate of Oklahoma, a run shall be the order of the day tomorrow. Can't pass up the chance of lapping up the warm rays of the south. Shall take it easy though. No need to send my ankle/foot back to the drawing board.

It's amazing that the first race of the season is sliding it's way up the forefront ever so quickly. June 7th is only a couple of months away. The first race of the year, Liberty Half Iron distance taking the honours. The excited feel of the butterflies in the stomach the morning of the race beckoning each athlete towards the month of June. Time to start having a look at the course and trying to look at what won't help an athlete like me just trying to hold on, but it's nice to imagine it would. I'll study the twists and turns, only to forget it all as soon as I emerge from the water! Here's hoping the nutrition is a little more dialed in this time around.


Here's to Spring!!!


Good luck to us all!

England "Training Camp"

Depending on your definition of the term 'Training Camp', this past week was spent 'training' in the Chiltern Hills of England. The very same roads that constituted portions of last September iron distance race, Challenge Henley.

The last 12 days have constituted the longest stretch of training spent purely on the road - 7 days bouncing around the dynamic weathered USA, then 5 days in the gloriously predictable British weather.  During these 12 days, amongst others, swim training has been achieved in a salt water pool in Green Bay, Wisconsin, 2 hour bike training on a spin bike in Washington DC and running and biking in the English countryside. A truly dynamic set of training environments.

It was a bit rag tag, but almost 90% of the training plan was accomplished. Not bad considering it was road training the whole way. It will be nice to get back on "my boy blue" and play with the great ssoftware that is Trainer Road. That said, however, it was a good confidence booster for the weeks to come, languishing in foreign pools and on foreign roads.

The foot has been behaving like a cranky old man. Complaining in the morning, during the first steps of the day. Gradually warming up as the day progresses, only to ache all over the next day. The running has been reduced, continually being replaced with extra bikes and swims. If this doesn't sort itself out soon, then perhaps further steps in rehab would be a wise move.

As you can see, it was hard to resist getting out the door during my time in the countryside.  Having grown up on the roads, the familiarity is magnetic and drives me outside, either on foot or on my Dad's trusty steed of a mountain bike. As much as I grumbled about having to ride a mountain bike at first, it truly has won me over on the bumpy wet roads that make up the area of my youth.

Said Trusty steed 

The run around the roads that brought you some Hollywood productions was too much to resist, albeit a little ill advised, as my right foot realized the next morning. Worth every minute though!

 Band of Brothers Jetlag run

Lonely Spin: Two Hours of spin psychological torture!

It was great to return after every ride or run to some wonderful home cooked food and the relaxation of a spring break holiday, walking to the local pub as much as possible for some "recovery juice". Just the job. Lovely!

The first base weeks are almost behind me. The cycle will reset itself and step it up soon. Better get the foot in shape before then. Nice to be home for a handful of days before heading back out for some more road training. Enjoy the pics..

Good luck to us all!

Cleaning the Trusty Steed after a muddy ride.

The hill that caused me so much pain in September

Hills everywhere!

Recovery Beer!

One month in...

It's been a week of adaptation. Temptation got the better of me last Monday. The call for a super sub came in around lunchtime. Home unexpectedly, I found myself irresistible to the urge of playing footie (soccer) for the local English pub. Four hours later the game was on and the team were running around the synthetic grass field like a bunch of overgrown children. Here's the thing about that very fact. Brain says "yay, I'm 18 again and can run with abandon". Body rebuts, "you must be joking. This will hurt tomorrow". And so, the body was shown to be right and I struggled with my right foot for the last 8 days.

This slight foot injury set me back a touch. However, early in the training season, it wasn't the end of the world. Training was adapted to reduce running and add biking workouts, with some elliptical thrown in for good ole fashion mental torture. The foot remains tender, but the long run last weekend was only an hour and was completed with minimal discomfort.  My ankles have always been a touch temperamental as a result of many years of youth football 5 days a week, playing on dodgy surfaces, quite often frozen. Therefore, to be a bit sore for a period after my one not-so-triumphant game a year is to be expected.

The opportunity to train in the glorious University of Minnesota pool was seized in the week. Anytime they open it up to the public is a chance anyone should jump at. Such a nice pool and a great chance to text your long course abilities. In addition to the joys of swimming at the U, Mother Nature decided to melt some snow this week, revealing the forever forgotten grass and show some encouraging signs of the forthcoming spring that will project me out of the basement and in to the wild. For now though, the basement remains and trainer road is till my best friend.

Off to back to the Motherland this week with a chance to do some training on the roads I grew up on and enjoy the countryside isolation. Better watch out for those potholes!

Good luck to us all!

The basement setup. Always need some entertainment!

Hopping in for a quick swim at the University of Minnesota. Wife on standby taking pictures!

Stuffed in a dark hallway in Texas to complete a 90 minute spin!