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!