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!

If you can keep your head....

My father was a great man. You hear that kind of statement from bias offspring all the time. However, remove my bias and those who had contact with him have expressed this same notion, without hesitation or doubt. The confirmation that this brings swells your pride in the parent 10 fold. Of course you have idolized this man for decades, but you think it's only you, perhaps. You don't see the man that interacts with others whilst you aren't around. The father a child comes to know is the same man as others see, but you get a little deeper insight. A less vulnerable man, confident in unequivocally being himself around his children. Naturally, when anyone leaves their natural environs of home we put up barriers to ensure we are protected from the outside looking in to ourselves. When this occurs, one does not always get a full picture of a man. Thus, when a parent is continually described as a great man or woman over and above this fact, a child can simply marvel and fill with pride at how their father was seen by those foreign to them.

This was my father, who sadly passed away this Christmas holiday, long before I was ready for him to leave. He never failed to drive me forward in everything I was to do, as he, albeit from afar, continued to be my litmus test for every challenge presented to me. Competitive to the core, he ran along side me in two of my iron distances races in the last few years, spurring me on. He knew when nothing was needed to be said, yet that inherited competitive spirit shone through and forced him to express words of encouragement as he trotted by me on continual loops of Nice or Henley.

It's the knowing look that I will miss the most. The  ability to simply communicate via DNA inheritance. When he was very ill in the last days of his life this was exemplified. He simply looked at me from his bed, unable to verbalize what he wanted to say, using simply a thumbs up and a look that said "everything will be ok". That's all I needed to know that, despite the great sadness I felt, everything would be ok. I even saw him saying "if you can keep your head...." a line from my favorite poem recited to me continually by dad and by his father to him. It's the words I have on all my water bottles when I race. Some smile wrily when they inquire as to what is written when I'm setting up my transition. However, the look he gave me that day, a mixture of reassurance, encouragement and fatigue, will always flash at me now, whenever I find myself in a challenging situation, be it in the water, on the bike, out on the run or walking through my life. That look and poem will be there helping me forward.

The sadness will slowly subside, but the drive to achieve his lofty life standards will drive me until my day comes. Of that I am sure. For that I will be eternally grateful. A great inheritance to bestow on me. I hope I live up to it.

Perhaps during an iron distance race this year I will find out.

Good luck to us all!

Fatties and Frenchies

Fatties

I love a good fatty. A fat tire bike that is. The crisp winter cold has been beckoning me for some time now. First it beckoned in the form of skis. Then Snowshoes. Now, fat tire bike riding. The premise originates from the wider and softer the more stable on slippy, unwelcoming ground the tire will be. 

There was always a mystery behind these iron clad, not a piece of skin showing types that intrepidly set out in the depths of winter  to ride along with the falling snow. That kind of uniqueness appeals to me. It's one of the elements of Ironman that draws me in and keeps me coming back. 

Coincidently, one of my weaker disciplines in triathlon is the painstakingly obvious element of riding that bloody bike. I do enjoy riding a lot. I just don't enjoy being behind everyone. Something that has been repeated a multitude of times with me in earshot is that in order to become a more proficient cyclist one must diversify the type of bike one rides. Cue mountain bikes, or variations of that. Summers in Minnesota lend themselves to warmth and cycling as far as you have time for. Winters, on the other hand, lend themselves to efficient use of time outside. Fat tire bikes allow that to happen, giving one the ability to surf along the snow ridden surfaces, without too much speed so as to freeze your sweat instantaneously. 

Enter stage left winter and the gift giving holiday of Christmas and low and behold, thanks to some fine family members, I am now the proud owner of one of those winter riding steads. Admittedly, I did assemble this aluminum beast, so it will require a lot of tweaking and tightening to improve the ride and quieten down all the scratching and screeching, but for a first ride it was fantastic. It was cold, undecided whether to rain or snow, wet and desolate. Not many a sole outside braving the elements. The solitude of the ride, similar to how one heads out in the summer, deep in to the country roads with only the odd car passing by. Now, the boundaries will be tested come the sub-zero days. A wise purchase of some windproof pants should be in order.  Perhaps some goggles too. However, that day will be welcomed with open and heavily thermally clad arms. I can't wait to get on to the frozen lakes and really have some fun and even improve my shoddy bike handling.

Frenchies

The other element that seems to have arisen is something that lends itself to the dreaming season. Constitution has gone and signed up for Ironman Texas, which has subsequently sold out. No offense Texas, but doing an ironman race and spending the entire roads on the roads of Houston is minimally appealing at best, so I wasn't too depressed by that race being unavailable. However, then Napoleon went and signed up for Ironman Coeur d'Alene (suspiciously spelt). This would be a race I "had my eye on" for the future. Not that I'm so competitive, but that bugger, by starting this one, would sneak ahead of me by one, to make a total of four ironman. Now, I'm not driven by this kind of competition, but allowing any frenchman to surpass me is unthinkable :). The races I had on my list to complete in the future, whenever that may be, were Ironman Mont Tremblant, Challenge Roth and Ironman Coeur D'Alene (still suspiciously spelt). Therefore, I find myself, yet again, contemplating whether or not to contemplate entering the fourth iron distance race of my life. There will be discussions. There will be deliberations. But watch this space to see if I'm foolish enough to take another crack at it.

If I was such an ignoramus as to do it again, I would experiment with my training. I think a five day a week training attempt, with a 6 bonus day time permitting would be an interesting test. Also, only completing the prescribed training if my body allows it. If not, being strong enough to realize a shorter version may be the best option this time and complete the longer one later. Elements of this type of training have snuck their way in to my psyche recently and had been planned to be experimented later in my distinctly amateur career. However, 2015 is going to be a mentally challenging year. Perhaps training for another iron distance race would help with that.

Good luck to us all!  

To Ironman or not to Ironman? That is the question

It's a simple question with numerous variables. To be frank (as long as I can still be Nick!), this wasn't even a consideration at the end of the season and I'm not even sure it's a serious question even now. However, I currently do have the smallest of inklings to contemplate it. 

Constitution has entered Ironman Texas. It's in May. All the shit stirring has begun. Napoleon and I will be shadowing his training to maintain fitness. Therefore, naturally, the will be a slight and small desire to join in on race day. However, it is not just me. I am one part of a team. A family. When an individual is undertaking this type of endurance feet they are not only having an impact on one life. Many are likely to be affected in the process. We aren't olympians. Just normal everyday working folk who happen to love a little bit of pain and suffering in our spare time. A desire to attempt distances that most would not consider a "normal" desire. A major part of the appeal for me is just that. To venture to where some would simply scoff and turn away. I think an analogy that I can identify with is when my parents used to forbid me to go somewhere or do something (in all cases quite justified). I wasn't an adventurous type at a young age, but the minute you were forbade the lure doubled in size. The idea of someone telling me that attempting an Ironman is crazy (myself included after finishing my first half iron distance) makes it all that more alluring.

With all that in mind, there is also a time to step back and reflect on the selfish pursuit of such a goal. There is no team out on the course. No outside help. By definition we are a selfish bunch in the pursuit of individual glory. Narcissists. To simply blindly commit without consideration of those around us would simply be demonstrably unfair. One of the many things I learned from training for my 2nd and 3rd iron distance races was that training alone is not why I do this. Being with company whilst training and racing is what appeals. The race day in Henley was fantastic. Sharing the experience with my family and friends who had not experienced such a race before. Boulder, again was a lonely endeavor until race day at which point it exploded in to a fantastic group experience. A reflection on the exciting surroundings we found ourselves in. Even though the training would be with the original group of lads, the destination is what completes the journey and the destination in this case just doesn't appeal. That has to be, for me personally, a key element. Each race so far has had an appeal. Nice's southern French coastline. Henley's hometown feel. Boulder's glorious scenery and old friends. Texas just doesn't yearn to be raced. To be honest, right now, there isn't a race I can think of that would drag me out of semi-retirement from iron distance racing. 

That said, there are a number of half distance races that hold great appeal and are licking their chops at my 2015 race calendar. However, only one may be picked.....for now :). And the race streaking clear at the top of the list is a race held in Door County, WI. Like it has been discussed previously, 2015 is the year of speeding up. Getting faster and more efficient on the bike, so I can chase that pesky Frenchman down. What better place to achieve this than in Door County. A stunning lakeside vista that is shore to be a destination that brings appeal to all The Team.

So the goal is set. The one race (or maybe two or three :)) has been chosen. Let's see if I can behave myself enough this winter to deliver the body in to spring well trained and chomping at the bit. The calf is recovering nicely, so now to be smart about it all. And with that.....

Good luck to us all!  

A close miss, a 10K and some end of season pain

The real end of season has arrived. Not the almost end of season or it's just around the corner end of season. It's actually here with all the benefits of the off season awaiting. If only I would heed them. 

Napoleon and I bashed out of the end of season marathon. The twin cities marathon is fantastic event that is becoming the staple of my calendar. Such a beautiful race with some fantastic crowds all along the diverse route. From lakes to boulevards to hills. It's all there with a fantastic finish, albeit sadistic, downhill in to the finish. Sadly, as much I would have liked to have broken the elusive 4 hour barrier, it wasn't to be. Missing the mark by a meer 4 minutes. It was indeed a PB, but a poorly paced first half marathon took its toll in the final 10k and even though the Napoleon slowly faded, my legs weren't enough to burst through that 4 hour line. Luckily, I discovered this would be the case by mile 24 and the trusty beer vendor, who is reliably there every year, gave me the alcohol induced boost to finish the final miles. I don't care what people say, a stand alone marathon hurts far more overall than an Ironman. I'm convinced of this now. We get to walk without prejudice during the ironman marathon. No such relief awaits during the stand alone version. Next year perhaps the 4 hour barrier will be crushed. I hope so. 

Thereafter, came the next trusty race on the calendar. It is somewhat of a "drive", but taking the time to fly back to the homeland to run in order to raise money for my old elementary school IT department is always worth. This year, joined by my wife made it all that more special. With my parents on the sideline again (our family house positioned well on the course) the race has become a staple on the calendar as long as the schedule allows. It's a stunning and challenging 10k that I would recommend to anyone. The Frieth Hilly 10K. It was truly a smash fest this year. Pouring everything I had in to the course. Sadly, another goal was missed. A sub 50 minutes too far from my reach to round off a great jet setting weekend. 

Unfortunately, all this jet setting and running at tempo was always going to catch up with me. I tried to take the week off but it's just not in my nature. After being bated by my coworker to head out for a gentle 6miles in one of my favorite running cities, Little Rock, 3 miles in and the right calf - the adjoining tendon having bothered me all year- finally gave out and it was a limp fest back to the hotel. Clearly, The Frieth Hilly was the last straw. Good news is that the pool beckons and the bike will get a lot of love for the winter. 

For the next few weeks I will play and work my way through the one hour workouts on the triathlete.com website to maintain the fitness I have worked so hard to gain, hoping not to throw it away on my winter of relax and gluttony. Food is such a favorite of mine, particularly the sweet kind. Here's to some rest and reading. Lots of books to chug through whilst the calf works it's way back to good health. 

Good luck to us all!!

Marathoning, taper and the Amalfi Coast

It has been a busy two weeks of flying around the world whilst tapering for the last event of the season. 

The running has been plentiful and the efforts hard. The scenery has been ever changing. The first of the last long two runs that remained on the dwindling calendar was in the adopted home town of Minneapolis. With a few last minute changes, the venue flipped from a monotonous high paced trip around the track to a fast paced training run with Napoleon. How else would it have gone?? With time tight and opportunity slim, with gently bashed out loops around the lakes in the mid morning, we smashed out the miles in a surprisingly enjoyable time, despite our fast flagging energy stores. It was a good rehearsal for a showdown come Oct 5th. It's going to be a lot of "fun". 

Seven days later and the scenery flipped to the English countryside for a hilly and very picturesque run with my lovely wife in tow on the bike. 18 miles looping around the rolling and sometimes harsh hills of the English country. 

It was a perfect ending to the short marathon specific training that has lasted the last six weeks. We couldn't have picked a better day for it and the 18 miles ticked by and with the accompaniment of  my wife, before I knew it the final climb up Frieth Hill was upon us and we were in the house for a well earned cuppa. 

The following week after we flew down to the never ending steps of the picturesque  town of Positano nestled in the seaside mountains of the Amalfi Coast. Just a couple of short runs on the calendar, but what a view! 

Presented with a last medium run of six miles, we elected instead to climb 1,750 steps up to the mountain town perched above us. A perfect replacement and a final view that made the steps all that much more worthwhile. 

What a great ending to the taper and now back to the United States for the last week and the season finale - the most beautiful urban marathon in the world. 

Good luck to us all!!