Just got back from Swimathon. Did 5k challenge swim, (200 lengths) but to be honest it was more about me covering the distance for the Outlaw. (3.8k, 152 lengths)
I did 3.8k in 1 hour 15, as I wanted, and felt fresh as a daisy. Wasn't tired, wasn't out of breath. I don't know how long the whole thing took me, because after that I wasn't really concerned. I'd guess at about 1.45. Even though I am 29 next month, I was still thrilled with my medal. Getting a medal is just great, I love it much more than a t.shirt that ends up being worn to bed or to do DIY. Not that I do any DIY, but if I did I'd wear it for that.
The swim was good actually, didn't get as bored as I thought I would, and I was glad there was only 2 people in my lane, me and another man who I swear was Duncan Goodhew in disguise, he finished in just over an hour!! I had to keep stopping to let him pass. But then I got fed up of stopping, so because there was only two of us we had one side of the lane each.
Unfortunately I forgot my earplugs, which I never swim without, so halfway my ears started getting quite painful, and ended up making a weird kind of ringing noise.
I'd borrowed some anti fog spray from my friend which worked a treat on goggles, but they leaked. Not too badly, but enough over that distance to irritate my eyes. Everything looks cloudy now and they feel like they're full of grit. I've had a constant battle with goggles, can't seem to find any that don't leak or squash my head!
Also got bunged up nose from the chlorine, and been having several sneezing fits since I got home. Swimathon sent a message asking for uploaded pictures, but I was like nooo thank you, I look a right state now!
Feel really happy that I've proved to myself I can do the swim distance. I thought back to 18 months ago when I could barely do a length.
So, can do the cycle, can do the swim, the only unknown is the run...
Training been a bit lax this week... Monday and Tuesday I felt really tired and sore, probably from the long ride on Sunday.
Life in general got in the way for the rest of the week, I've just been stupidly busy. Managed two swims and one half hearted gym session where I was so knackered I left after 20 minutes.
Friday I woke up sneezing and felt like I was getting a cold, but my resting heart rate was still at 49, (usually goes higher before I'm ill) so was hoping to fight it off before it properly took hold. So far so good.
Today was meant to be a 6.30 bike, followed by a 1.30 run. Was actually really looking forward to it.
(8 hours continuous training and I look forward to it.. need to get a life)
But due to the appalling British weather that was changed round. The bike just isn't happening and I went for a run yesterday.
After 20 minutes run/walk I felt a familiar pain in my shins... was tempted to carry on, but I didn't.
When I got home I spoke to my coach. We knew it was a possibility I would get injured again, because to be honest I haven't really healed! Once again I'm faced with the dilemma of either opting to pull out and defer to next year, just do the bike leg for a relay or continuing the full thing as planned and walking the whole marathon. If this is what I'm going to do then there would be a plan of not running at all until the day. Risky, and psychologically challenging to say the least. But.. at least I'd have the chance of finishing, whereas now if I keep running I could make it much worse.
I'm raising money for Nottingham Hospitals now too, a cause that means a lot. I don't usually do the whole fundraising thing, but I thought as this is my first iron tri I'd try and make it worthwhile. I won't be fundraising again. Therefore my plan is to just get through it, walk the marathon if needs be, and just get over the line before the cutoff time. It's really annoying because I know I could do better, but plenty of time for that in the future maybe.
(Haven't even done this one and I'm already thinking of the next one!!!)
Back to the gym, core work, physio and aqua jogging.
Mallorca 70.3 looms.. it's only 12 days away! Hopefully I'll get a bit of an idea from that how I will feel.
I'm looking forward to the sunshine and the holiday bit more than anything! Although I do hope I do well, I am treating it as a test run for the big one.
It's not far away now!! Everything feels pre or post Outlaw. When writing things down in my diary I think, ''ooh, that's so and so days before the race'', or ''It'll all be over before this''.
One part of me is excited, one part of me is terrified.
Sunday, 29 April 2012
Sunday, 22 April 2012
One Psychological Barrier Broken.
Sooooo... Did first sportive today. Had 6 hour ride on my plan, but thought I'd enter 100 miler instead. Actually it was officially 104 miles. But I did 107. I'll explain that later.
The day got off to rather a rushed start, Registration for the ride opened at 6.30am, and I had intended to get up at 5am, get packed, and get there for 7am. (Ride was in Peterborough, 55 miles away)
Instead I woke up with a jump, (a ''oh no I've switched the alarm off and rolled over'' jump) looked at my phone and it said 6.45. Oh dear. The last riders had to be on the road for 9am. By the time I'd got ready, packed nutrition, packed change of clothes, got bike rack out and on car, took bike rack off car because bike wouldn't fit on it, put seats down and shoved bike in, and messed about with satnav, it was 7.30. I put my gear on, almost leaving my winter jacket at home, but stuffing it in my bag at the last minute. I set off having had no breakfast, never a good start. I also hate rushing for anything.
Satnav took me on a mystery tour on all back roads instead of direct, so I arrived at 8.50. Registered and set off. I assumed most other riders had set off already. For the first 25 miles or so I saw no one.
It was pretty lonely. As we approached rather a large hill I began to catch up with people.
The hills were extremely steep. As I went up the first one several people were getting off to walk. Sensible idea. A few minutes later I saw no less than three people fall to one side as they couldn't keep momentum going, and didn't unclip their shoes in time.
I kept pushing up, quads burning, but determined not to give up. I just kept thinking that I couldn't get off and walk in front of everyone, I was riding my tri bike with aerobars and tip shifters, had all my matching tri coaching kit on, and white Oakley sunglasses. There was no way I was going to have people muttering ''All the gear and no idea'' in my direction.
The hills seemed pretty relentless for a few miles, getting steeper and steeper. I was feeling the burn by mile 45. I bypassed the first and second feed stations, not wanting to stop. My plan was to use my own gels, and do the first half without stopping at all, which would be practice for Mallorca in three weeks. Lunch was being served at mile 60, and I'd stop for 20 minutes, which fitted in nicely. It would also give me chance to practice nutrition. I intended to have a drink of water with electrolyte tablets in every 10 minutes, (not having sports drinks anymore, can't stand them) and a gel every thirty. My garmin put stop to that. Because it stopped. Literally. I now had to guess when to eat.
The scenery was beautiful, but strangely enough I had to remind myself to look around. I remember writing a blog months ago about my coach telling me I didn't focus. That has definitely changed now. I mean I wasn't completely concentrating, that would be impossible, but I was thinking a lot about my technique, and correcting myself if my form was slipping.
There was a nasty headwind for a few miles, but I tried not to slow too much. I was now passing quite a few people, nearly all of them male. I wondered where all the women were? There was also a 100k ride, maybe they did that one. Or maybe normal women stay at home baking cakes and knitting instead of racing round in lycra overtaking.
For some reason I always feel like I should apologise for going past people. As if it is rude. At one point I was behind two ''old boys'', who were wearing Enduroman UK tops. I actually slowed down. For a start they were older than me, must be respectful. Also, wasn't Enduroman the double Iron distance?? I'm sure I've read about it in a magazine. Whatever it is they aren't going to appreciate being ''chicked'' by me. But eventually I had to. But if you're reading this, I'm sorry!!
Most men I passed seemed rather surprised. Especially that I was female. I heard one bloke say to his friend ''You do know a woman has just passed us don't you? That's not right.''
Made me giggle my head off.
As I rounded a corner and began up another hill, I started to feel spots of rain. The weather recently has been appalling, but I had hoped all week it would be ok for today. Mm. It got heavier, and heavier, and then turned into a monsoon. It just poured down. Within minutes I was soaked. I got down on the aerobars and hammered it, because I was at mile 58 and knew feed station wasn't far. Rain and hail battered down, and I couldn't even see where I was going. My hands and feet were sodden and freezing.
When I arrived people stood inside parted to let me through, pitying looks on their faces. I looked like I'd been dunked in a bath. Not one part of me was dry. I took my jacket and shoes off, and got a cup of coffee. I wanted to scream. Or cry. Or both. I hate being cold. I hate being wet. And now I was both, still with 44 miles to go.
I got some lunch from the buffet and sat down in the corner, shivering. I was so cold, and knew that going back on the bike would be horrible.
I went into the toilet and wrung my socks and gloves out, and then spent 35 minutes trying to dry them under the hand dryer.
I'd only planned to stay there for 20 minutes, but I was so cold I sat around for longer. I looked at the Roadside Assistance number we'd been given, and was sorely tempted several times to call and ask to be picked up.
I then imagined myself sat at home later, sad and disappointed that I hadn't finished the ride. I'd said I'd do 100 miles, so 100 miles it was.
To get back on that bike 55 minutes later and keep going in the freezing conditions knowing I still had a few hours to go took more mental strength and willpower than the physical effort of the ride.
My feet were icy cold and numb, a strange feeling. I kept moving them but couldn't feel anything. I just repeated over and over again, ''circles, circles, circles''. (Referring to pedalling motion). I disconnected from the pain my hands and feet were in, and just thought about that.
Going through a town, I obviously disconnected so much that I missed the yellow arrow I was meant to follow and went the wrong way. That's how I did 107 and not 104. I wasn't impressed. Had a bit of a strop actually. I ''missed my Nan and wanted to go home''.
The emotional ups and downs are amazing really. Twenty minutes later I was screaming in delight, Shouting at the top of my voice, ''Foxy Roxy The Equinox-y!!'' (My bikes name, it's a Trek Equinox) whilst zooming down a hill at 42mph. This has given me the knowledge that the race will have serious down points.. but they will pass.
I missed my cycling buddies, and having people to talk to and laugh with, -although when I stopped at mile 90 feed station for a hot drink I had quite a few chats to people- but overall I'd say I was ok, and enjoyed the challenge. When there's no one there to distract you from the physical pain and monotony it's just you and your own head.. and overcoming that was a good test for me.
There was no way I was stopping before I'd done 100. I think it was a huge psychological barrier for me, and breaking it has made me relax a bit. If I can do 107 I can do 112.
But when I finished I thought, ''I haven't swum 2.4 miles. And do I now want to ride another 5, then do a marathon?''
Erm.... NO! I want a cup of tea, a bag of chips and a bath!! It has made me realise again how much you have to respect the distance, and what you are actually asking your body to do. It's massive. Next week I am booked to do a 5k swim, it's in a pool, not open water, but it is further than Outlaw distance. I think I need to know I can do each separately. Unfortunately I won't have that peace of mind with the run, but I do have the knowledge that I will not stop, even if I have to walk most of it. That will get me round.
It's massive for me that I've just done this today though. As I rode towards the finish I was grinning and said out loud, ''I actually can't believe I've just done it.'' I know I've trained and everything, but I still feel really surprised at what I've achieved.
One thing's for sure, my body definitely knows I've achieved it, because every single muscle aches!!! Off to bed now. And won't be setting the alarm!! :)
The day got off to rather a rushed start, Registration for the ride opened at 6.30am, and I had intended to get up at 5am, get packed, and get there for 7am. (Ride was in Peterborough, 55 miles away)
Instead I woke up with a jump, (a ''oh no I've switched the alarm off and rolled over'' jump) looked at my phone and it said 6.45. Oh dear. The last riders had to be on the road for 9am. By the time I'd got ready, packed nutrition, packed change of clothes, got bike rack out and on car, took bike rack off car because bike wouldn't fit on it, put seats down and shoved bike in, and messed about with satnav, it was 7.30. I put my gear on, almost leaving my winter jacket at home, but stuffing it in my bag at the last minute. I set off having had no breakfast, never a good start. I also hate rushing for anything.
Satnav took me on a mystery tour on all back roads instead of direct, so I arrived at 8.50. Registered and set off. I assumed most other riders had set off already. For the first 25 miles or so I saw no one.
It was pretty lonely. As we approached rather a large hill I began to catch up with people.
The hills were extremely steep. As I went up the first one several people were getting off to walk. Sensible idea. A few minutes later I saw no less than three people fall to one side as they couldn't keep momentum going, and didn't unclip their shoes in time.
I kept pushing up, quads burning, but determined not to give up. I just kept thinking that I couldn't get off and walk in front of everyone, I was riding my tri bike with aerobars and tip shifters, had all my matching tri coaching kit on, and white Oakley sunglasses. There was no way I was going to have people muttering ''All the gear and no idea'' in my direction.
The hills seemed pretty relentless for a few miles, getting steeper and steeper. I was feeling the burn by mile 45. I bypassed the first and second feed stations, not wanting to stop. My plan was to use my own gels, and do the first half without stopping at all, which would be practice for Mallorca in three weeks. Lunch was being served at mile 60, and I'd stop for 20 minutes, which fitted in nicely. It would also give me chance to practice nutrition. I intended to have a drink of water with electrolyte tablets in every 10 minutes, (not having sports drinks anymore, can't stand them) and a gel every thirty. My garmin put stop to that. Because it stopped. Literally. I now had to guess when to eat.
The scenery was beautiful, but strangely enough I had to remind myself to look around. I remember writing a blog months ago about my coach telling me I didn't focus. That has definitely changed now. I mean I wasn't completely concentrating, that would be impossible, but I was thinking a lot about my technique, and correcting myself if my form was slipping.
There was a nasty headwind for a few miles, but I tried not to slow too much. I was now passing quite a few people, nearly all of them male. I wondered where all the women were? There was also a 100k ride, maybe they did that one. Or maybe normal women stay at home baking cakes and knitting instead of racing round in lycra overtaking.
For some reason I always feel like I should apologise for going past people. As if it is rude. At one point I was behind two ''old boys'', who were wearing Enduroman UK tops. I actually slowed down. For a start they were older than me, must be respectful. Also, wasn't Enduroman the double Iron distance?? I'm sure I've read about it in a magazine. Whatever it is they aren't going to appreciate being ''chicked'' by me. But eventually I had to. But if you're reading this, I'm sorry!!
Most men I passed seemed rather surprised. Especially that I was female. I heard one bloke say to his friend ''You do know a woman has just passed us don't you? That's not right.''
Made me giggle my head off.
As I rounded a corner and began up another hill, I started to feel spots of rain. The weather recently has been appalling, but I had hoped all week it would be ok for today. Mm. It got heavier, and heavier, and then turned into a monsoon. It just poured down. Within minutes I was soaked. I got down on the aerobars and hammered it, because I was at mile 58 and knew feed station wasn't far. Rain and hail battered down, and I couldn't even see where I was going. My hands and feet were sodden and freezing.
When I arrived people stood inside parted to let me through, pitying looks on their faces. I looked like I'd been dunked in a bath. Not one part of me was dry. I took my jacket and shoes off, and got a cup of coffee. I wanted to scream. Or cry. Or both. I hate being cold. I hate being wet. And now I was both, still with 44 miles to go.
I got some lunch from the buffet and sat down in the corner, shivering. I was so cold, and knew that going back on the bike would be horrible.
I went into the toilet and wrung my socks and gloves out, and then spent 35 minutes trying to dry them under the hand dryer.
I'd only planned to stay there for 20 minutes, but I was so cold I sat around for longer. I looked at the Roadside Assistance number we'd been given, and was sorely tempted several times to call and ask to be picked up.
I then imagined myself sat at home later, sad and disappointed that I hadn't finished the ride. I'd said I'd do 100 miles, so 100 miles it was.
To get back on that bike 55 minutes later and keep going in the freezing conditions knowing I still had a few hours to go took more mental strength and willpower than the physical effort of the ride.
My feet were icy cold and numb, a strange feeling. I kept moving them but couldn't feel anything. I just repeated over and over again, ''circles, circles, circles''. (Referring to pedalling motion). I disconnected from the pain my hands and feet were in, and just thought about that.
Going through a town, I obviously disconnected so much that I missed the yellow arrow I was meant to follow and went the wrong way. That's how I did 107 and not 104. I wasn't impressed. Had a bit of a strop actually. I ''missed my Nan and wanted to go home''.
The emotional ups and downs are amazing really. Twenty minutes later I was screaming in delight, Shouting at the top of my voice, ''Foxy Roxy The Equinox-y!!'' (My bikes name, it's a Trek Equinox) whilst zooming down a hill at 42mph. This has given me the knowledge that the race will have serious down points.. but they will pass.
I missed my cycling buddies, and having people to talk to and laugh with, -although when I stopped at mile 90 feed station for a hot drink I had quite a few chats to people- but overall I'd say I was ok, and enjoyed the challenge. When there's no one there to distract you from the physical pain and monotony it's just you and your own head.. and overcoming that was a good test for me.
There was no way I was stopping before I'd done 100. I think it was a huge psychological barrier for me, and breaking it has made me relax a bit. If I can do 107 I can do 112.
But when I finished I thought, ''I haven't swum 2.4 miles. And do I now want to ride another 5, then do a marathon?''
Erm.... NO! I want a cup of tea, a bag of chips and a bath!! It has made me realise again how much you have to respect the distance, and what you are actually asking your body to do. It's massive. Next week I am booked to do a 5k swim, it's in a pool, not open water, but it is further than Outlaw distance. I think I need to know I can do each separately. Unfortunately I won't have that peace of mind with the run, but I do have the knowledge that I will not stop, even if I have to walk most of it. That will get me round.
It's massive for me that I've just done this today though. As I rode towards the finish I was grinning and said out loud, ''I actually can't believe I've just done it.'' I know I've trained and everything, but I still feel really surprised at what I've achieved.
One thing's for sure, my body definitely knows I've achieved it, because every single muscle aches!!! Off to bed now. And won't be setting the alarm!! :)
Sunday, 8 April 2012
A Momentous Occasion.
Did 82 miles today, longest ride to date. Discovered a few interesting things.
1. I don't really like sports drinks. Urge to brush teeth.
2. I don't really like gels. Urge to spit them out.
3. I was very hungry by mile 70 and craving savoury food. Various menu options were flashing through my mind, with tuna pasta bake being top of the list, I was almost salivating.
4. I can't reach my aerobottle when I'm on the tri bars. Have to shift round to be able to reach. What that's all about I do not know. Bad shoulder flexibility I think.
5. By mile 53 I was really bored and wanted to get off.
6. By mile 75 I went to quite a depressed and fed up place, my neck and shoulders were killing me, and I just wanted to be at home. Then it started to piss it down. I thanked the sky with sarcasm in my voice. Started thinking lots of weird ''What would happen if....'' scenarios.Think I was running out of energy, had 2 gels.
7. By mile 80 I was bizarrely euphoric, and was belting out ''Ain't No Mountain High Enough'' whilst pedalling up a big hill, in time to the beat playing in my head. Think the 2 gels worked.
8. I REALLY do not like sports drinks. Big urge to brush teeth. Started wondering about taking toothbrush into transition. Seriously.
What am I going to do about this issue...? I wonder if I can just get away with water and gels? That'd be a lot of gels though... and I'm not too fond of those either to be honest! But I can't stand the aftertaste of sports drinks.. and the coating on my teeth! Awful! I'm a complete sugar addict, I eat way too many sweets, but today I really couldn't face anymore sugar. (Apart from the Easter eggs I had when I got home obviously, but they aren't anywhere near as bad, which is saying something!)
What is savoury-ish that I could have? Flapjack maybe.. Or a Tesco cheese twist? I must try this out on next long ride. Got to have a proper eat/drink plan, and stick to it. I was drinking today, but not at regular intervals like I should have been. Need to make it almost automatic. An amazing thing happened today though..
It has long been a joke amongst my cycling buddies that I refuse to get my bum out to go to the loo en route. I just don't like it, it is most uncouth for a lady. We have to squat. Not nice. Now I really don't look anything like someone who'd care what bits they had out, I have large tattoos, wild hair and various piercings, but I am actually a complete prude. I should have been bought up in the Victorian era. I don't want my bum out of my shorts, simple! And in the whole time we have been cycling together, (8 months) I haven't had to go. Partly I actually wouldn't need to, (think it was a psychological block to keep bum in shorts) and partly if I did I'd hold it until I had a toilet.
But today something miraculous happened.. I needed a wee whilst cycling. Really needed one. Then something even more miraculous.. I stopped and went. Outside!! Behind a bush!! Me!! I tried to wait and not go, but had to, it was hurting, and really putting me off. So I climbed over a fence, disappeared into some trees, wrestled with top and got bib shorts off, and did the dreaded squat. Instant relief, even if a bit did go on my shoe.
My comrades were most proud of me, offered hearty congratulations, and told me I was now a woman of the world, and could achieve anything. It was truly a momentous occasion.
It also feels a momentous occasion that I have achieved 82 miles actually. And I went to visit friends when I got home too, didn't just collapse. My legs are slightly sore, and know I will feel stiff tomorrow, but it's not bad.. I got home and thought, 'I really do have some endurance now'.
Smiled to myself. It's a good feeling.
1. I don't really like sports drinks. Urge to brush teeth.
2. I don't really like gels. Urge to spit them out.
3. I was very hungry by mile 70 and craving savoury food. Various menu options were flashing through my mind, with tuna pasta bake being top of the list, I was almost salivating.
4. I can't reach my aerobottle when I'm on the tri bars. Have to shift round to be able to reach. What that's all about I do not know. Bad shoulder flexibility I think.
5. By mile 53 I was really bored and wanted to get off.
6. By mile 75 I went to quite a depressed and fed up place, my neck and shoulders were killing me, and I just wanted to be at home. Then it started to piss it down. I thanked the sky with sarcasm in my voice. Started thinking lots of weird ''What would happen if....'' scenarios.Think I was running out of energy, had 2 gels.
7. By mile 80 I was bizarrely euphoric, and was belting out ''Ain't No Mountain High Enough'' whilst pedalling up a big hill, in time to the beat playing in my head. Think the 2 gels worked.
8. I REALLY do not like sports drinks. Big urge to brush teeth. Started wondering about taking toothbrush into transition. Seriously.
What am I going to do about this issue...? I wonder if I can just get away with water and gels? That'd be a lot of gels though... and I'm not too fond of those either to be honest! But I can't stand the aftertaste of sports drinks.. and the coating on my teeth! Awful! I'm a complete sugar addict, I eat way too many sweets, but today I really couldn't face anymore sugar. (Apart from the Easter eggs I had when I got home obviously, but they aren't anywhere near as bad, which is saying something!)
What is savoury-ish that I could have? Flapjack maybe.. Or a Tesco cheese twist? I must try this out on next long ride. Got to have a proper eat/drink plan, and stick to it. I was drinking today, but not at regular intervals like I should have been. Need to make it almost automatic. An amazing thing happened today though..
It has long been a joke amongst my cycling buddies that I refuse to get my bum out to go to the loo en route. I just don't like it, it is most uncouth for a lady. We have to squat. Not nice. Now I really don't look anything like someone who'd care what bits they had out, I have large tattoos, wild hair and various piercings, but I am actually a complete prude. I should have been bought up in the Victorian era. I don't want my bum out of my shorts, simple! And in the whole time we have been cycling together, (8 months) I haven't had to go. Partly I actually wouldn't need to, (think it was a psychological block to keep bum in shorts) and partly if I did I'd hold it until I had a toilet.
But today something miraculous happened.. I needed a wee whilst cycling. Really needed one. Then something even more miraculous.. I stopped and went. Outside!! Behind a bush!! Me!! I tried to wait and not go, but had to, it was hurting, and really putting me off. So I climbed over a fence, disappeared into some trees, wrestled with top and got bib shorts off, and did the dreaded squat. Instant relief, even if a bit did go on my shoe.
My comrades were most proud of me, offered hearty congratulations, and told me I was now a woman of the world, and could achieve anything. It was truly a momentous occasion.
It also feels a momentous occasion that I have achieved 82 miles actually. And I went to visit friends when I got home too, didn't just collapse. My legs are slightly sore, and know I will feel stiff tomorrow, but it's not bad.. I got home and thought, 'I really do have some endurance now'.
Smiled to myself. It's a good feeling.
Saturday, 7 April 2012
How it stands...
Had my follow up physio appointment on Thursday... went in, and waited with baited breath for the verdict. The physio was happy with the way my shins are healing, and the exercises have had an effect on my strength.
However, time is not on my side. I now haven't run for 6 weeks. The Outlaw is less than 3 months away. Take tapering into the equation and it's even less than that. That's a hell of a challenge for someone to train for a marathon. If it was a half I know I would be ok. But double the distance... if I push it too much I could either end up not finishing the race, and even wrecking my legs for the rest of the season. That's if I make it to the start line. My legs are still delicate, and need a longer time scale in order to continue to heal, and for me to build up slowly. I don't have a longer time scale though.
I have a half Iron in a few weeks time. I do feel fairly confident I will finish that, but I don't think the run will be easy. Particularly if I have to walk it all. I think that will frustrate the life out of me actually.
Now, I don't see myself as a competitive person. If someone had a burning need to beat me, I'd honestly probably slow down enough to let them do it, just so I could relax! Trying to be ''the best'' actually makes me really anxious, and it takes away my enjoyment of what I'm doing.
I do this for the joy it brings me, and because I love to test my own limits. I like to push past the barrier when my mind is making every excuse to stop. I feel after each time I go that bit further I emerge a stronger and more determined person. I do it to beat my own perception of myself, because each time I think I can't do anymore, I prove that belief wrong.
Unfortunately this means that sometimes if I feel I have unperformed to the standards I set myself or not done well enough I get awfully disappointed with myself and feel like a failure. Which is ridiculous. I wish I could just see it for what it is. I am aware of it though, and I'm working on it!
I think in Triathlon world we all get caught up in times, splits, and everything else, and sometimes forget to actually stop and look at the bigger picture. I mean WHO in their right mind would swim, bike and run for 140.6 miles?! Who goes out come rain or shine having the focus and dedication to get on a bike for 5 hours and then jump off and run?! Who says no to an extra beer on a saturday night because they have to get up at 6am for a brick session?! Not many people.
People outside of Triathlon world think I'm some kind of amazing super athlete and they are intrigued at what I do. Their faces are full of admiration (or bewilderment) when I say what I'm training for. I find myself laughing at their perceptions of me, and explaining that in Triathlon world what I do is actually minimal, and that I am in fact very slow compared to most people. But hang on a minute- why should I think that? I should be bloody proud of myself for the dedication I have shown. My social life has suffered tremendously!! Some friends don't even bother to ask me to go out or to go and visit anymore, I assume because they're so fed up of me declining! But you can't train hard and play hard. Something has to give.
This is a huge part of my life, and it's who I am, and I love it, I just want to give myself a break, and not forget that what I'm doing is a huge challenge, and a lot of people in the world will not even attempt it.
How did I get onto that?? Oh yes, the injury. I am worried that if I do make it to the start line, because I may have to walk the whole marathon it'll frustrate me so much that I'll just end up hating the experience. It'll also completely remove any idea of my doing a half decent time. But there I go again, what is a ''half decent'' time?! I've been in triathlon for a year, never trained consistently, and never done more than a sprint distance, so surely any time and just getting to the finish is half decent enough?!! I think you can all probably work out where I am mentally at the moment. All over the place is the truthful answer. I feel stressed, and very pressured to be ok, to be well, to be there and do it. And not just for me, but for all the people who have got me this far!!
I like to be in control of my own life, and at the moment I don't feel that I am. Will I race? Won't I race? Will I get there? Is 3 months long enough? Will I get injured again? Will I finish if I start? Should I not risk it and just defer to next year? Will I be really slow and in pain and not enjoy any of it? What if this? What if that? Aargh.
How it stands is- for now, it still isn't certain whether I will make it to the start line. Next week I start a run/walk programme again, 2 minutes running, 2 minutes walking. Lots of ice, lots more strength and core work, and see how it goes. I should know by the time I do Majorca whether the Outlaw is on or not.
However, time is not on my side. I now haven't run for 6 weeks. The Outlaw is less than 3 months away. Take tapering into the equation and it's even less than that. That's a hell of a challenge for someone to train for a marathon. If it was a half I know I would be ok. But double the distance... if I push it too much I could either end up not finishing the race, and even wrecking my legs for the rest of the season. That's if I make it to the start line. My legs are still delicate, and need a longer time scale in order to continue to heal, and for me to build up slowly. I don't have a longer time scale though.
I have a half Iron in a few weeks time. I do feel fairly confident I will finish that, but I don't think the run will be easy. Particularly if I have to walk it all. I think that will frustrate the life out of me actually.
Now, I don't see myself as a competitive person. If someone had a burning need to beat me, I'd honestly probably slow down enough to let them do it, just so I could relax! Trying to be ''the best'' actually makes me really anxious, and it takes away my enjoyment of what I'm doing.
I do this for the joy it brings me, and because I love to test my own limits. I like to push past the barrier when my mind is making every excuse to stop. I feel after each time I go that bit further I emerge a stronger and more determined person. I do it to beat my own perception of myself, because each time I think I can't do anymore, I prove that belief wrong.
Unfortunately this means that sometimes if I feel I have unperformed to the standards I set myself or not done well enough I get awfully disappointed with myself and feel like a failure. Which is ridiculous. I wish I could just see it for what it is. I am aware of it though, and I'm working on it!
I think in Triathlon world we all get caught up in times, splits, and everything else, and sometimes forget to actually stop and look at the bigger picture. I mean WHO in their right mind would swim, bike and run for 140.6 miles?! Who goes out come rain or shine having the focus and dedication to get on a bike for 5 hours and then jump off and run?! Who says no to an extra beer on a saturday night because they have to get up at 6am for a brick session?! Not many people.
People outside of Triathlon world think I'm some kind of amazing super athlete and they are intrigued at what I do. Their faces are full of admiration (or bewilderment) when I say what I'm training for. I find myself laughing at their perceptions of me, and explaining that in Triathlon world what I do is actually minimal, and that I am in fact very slow compared to most people. But hang on a minute- why should I think that? I should be bloody proud of myself for the dedication I have shown. My social life has suffered tremendously!! Some friends don't even bother to ask me to go out or to go and visit anymore, I assume because they're so fed up of me declining! But you can't train hard and play hard. Something has to give.
This is a huge part of my life, and it's who I am, and I love it, I just want to give myself a break, and not forget that what I'm doing is a huge challenge, and a lot of people in the world will not even attempt it.
How did I get onto that?? Oh yes, the injury. I am worried that if I do make it to the start line, because I may have to walk the whole marathon it'll frustrate me so much that I'll just end up hating the experience. It'll also completely remove any idea of my doing a half decent time. But there I go again, what is a ''half decent'' time?! I've been in triathlon for a year, never trained consistently, and never done more than a sprint distance, so surely any time and just getting to the finish is half decent enough?!! I think you can all probably work out where I am mentally at the moment. All over the place is the truthful answer. I feel stressed, and very pressured to be ok, to be well, to be there and do it. And not just for me, but for all the people who have got me this far!!
I like to be in control of my own life, and at the moment I don't feel that I am. Will I race? Won't I race? Will I get there? Is 3 months long enough? Will I get injured again? Will I finish if I start? Should I not risk it and just defer to next year? Will I be really slow and in pain and not enjoy any of it? What if this? What if that? Aargh.
How it stands is- for now, it still isn't certain whether I will make it to the start line. Next week I start a run/walk programme again, 2 minutes running, 2 minutes walking. Lots of ice, lots more strength and core work, and see how it goes. I should know by the time I do Majorca whether the Outlaw is on or not.
Sunday, 1 April 2012
Cafe Con Leche Por Favor
Just got back from a week at a training camp in Spain. Have written basic overviews of each day.
DAY 1-
Arrived at training camp late morning, and was taken to a villa near Pinoso, Alicante.
Sun was shining, and I was happy in the knowledge I had a whole week to relax and have fun. As well as training obviously.
My bike has never been abroad before, and dismantling it was a whole new experience for me. But not as much as the experience of trying to put it back together. So I did what any self reliant, confident, modern woman would do and acted all pathetic until a man came to help me.
It's amazing.. you just let out a few sighs, say how you haven't got a clue which allen key fits what and look all dejected and they appear by your side to help! It's great! Not that I had to pretend. I really didn't have a clue which allen key went where.
By the time we'd all got unpacked and built the bikes it was time for a quick run before dinner. Apart from me obviously, because I'm still not supposed to be running. So I thought I'd be all dedicated and go in the pool instead. I dipped my hand in and it felt cold, but I didn't think it'd be that bad..
wetsuit on, walked in... my god, it was like stepping into a freezer. When you wear a wetsuit and you first get in, you get that horrible feeling as the cold water sloooooowly seeps in through the zipper.. and you try to ignore it.. then you duck down a bit and it all goes in where the neckline is... aargh.. horrible. I tried putting my face in and instantly gasped and lifted my head up, it took my breath away. Up and down and up and down I went, doing a kind of weird floating bobbing breaststroke thing, until I was brave enough to actually swim properly.
Eventually managed a few lengths, but couldn't do more than 75m without stopping for air. It was THAT cold. After about 45 minutes I couldn't take it anymore, and got out. At which point a few concerned faces of those sitting on sun loungers around me pointed out that I looked very blue.
I couldn't answer because I went into an uncontrollable shaking fit and ran to have a shower. Passing the mirror on the way I saw my reflection, and I was indeed quite blue. I stayed in the shower for 20 minutes. When I got out I looked at the thermometer in the water. 12.7c. Chilly. Very.
The rest of the evening was spent just chatting and lazing around, then it was off for an early night ready to set off on a cycle the next morning.
DAY 2-
Day two started with a lovely breakfast, and a group picture of us all in matching cycling gear- I like it when things match. Someone had orange and black bottles and I really wanted them, my bottles are the only thing on me or my bike that aren't orange or black.
We set off at around 10am for a ride. The weather was beautiful, and the scenery stunning. After 35 miles we stopped for lunch. We found a place that was called ''Pizza and Pasta Cafe'', so far so good. After sitting down and having rather a confusing conversation with the owner, we found it was actually an indian restaurant. Mm. Nevertheless, he seemed enthusiastic and said they did pasta as well. We all ordered, and waited. And waited. And waited. Annnd waited. An hour went by. An hour and a half. Everyone knows that triathletes love to eat. And we were all starving and starting to get edgy. Two people went in separately to ask when food was going to appear. Yes, we're on the continent, but surely this was taking the laid back lifestyle a little TOO far?
When plates finally started appearing it wasn't much better... I eagerly awaited my pasta with ham and mushrooms, but what appeared was a tiny portion of pasta with a single mushroom and even less ham. And it was cold. Lovely. But that was nothing compared to what my buddy sitting opposite got! A plate of about 6 pieces of thinly sliced cheese. I took pity and gave him some of my pasta, so we were both still hungry! Haven't a clue what that was all about. Maybe they had to grow the food before they cooked it.
After the meagre meal, it was time to leave to get back. All in all we did 70 miles, that's the furthest I've ever been. I was ok, legs felt fine, but the same couldn't be said for my bits. After being on that saddle all day the burning was indescribable. Made it a priority to get a womens saddle as soon as I got home. Been saying that for the last 6 months, but I really mean it this time. Luckily the pool was so cold, because I used it as an ice bath.
DAY 3-
Day 3 was another cycle, but shorter. We did around 45. I was in a lot of pain, and kept having to stand to relieve pressure. We stopped in the local town for lunch. As we set off again, I went to clip in, and my foot slipped on the pedal, and I went bang, straight onto my already delicate bits, straight onto the crossbar. The pain shot through my whole body, and my eyes instantly filled with tears. Ooouch. After being crouched over for several minutes trying not to be sick, not wanting to look like a wimp I pushed on, but it had actually made me feel very nauseous, and I was quiet on the way home, having to focus on just turning the pedals. Back in the ice bath pool I went, this time in an even more dignified position with my legs spreadeagled. Heaven knows what the locals passing by thought I was doing.
Day 4-
Day 4 was planned to be the 100 miler, but due to heavy winds the route was changed to 80, going a different way. There was also a second route of around 55 miles, as not everyone wanted to do 100. It had been assumed the day before that I wouldn't be going anywhere on the bike, but waking up I felt good, my legs weren't tired, and I just found it ridiculous that sore bits could stop me riding. So I manned up, got ready, put half a tub of vaseline on, and got on the bike. For the first half I was fine, second half a bit more tender, but I was really glad I went. The shorter group got back earlier, and I braved the ice bath again, for swimming this time. It wasn't quite as cold, but cold enough, I still went blue. After messing about pretending to swim for 30 minutes I got out and spent the rest of the day reading and chatting to people! A few of us discussed going and doing something cultural, but the best we could find was a museum of 20,000 salt and pepper shakers and a ladyboys cabaret, so we decided to stick to cycling.
DAY 5-
Day off cycling, it was sea swim day. For those of us doing Majorca 70.3 in a few weeks time it would be a great opportunity to get some practice in. I am one of those people. But I also wasn't keen. I don't like sand. I don't like swimming in the sea. I don't like salt. But again, just get on with it. Wetsuit on, run in Baywatch style. Fall over, hat slips, goggles fill with water. Good start. Swimming out, I was surprised that I couldn't see anything. It was very cloudy in the water, and made even seeing your hand difficult. It was also quite rough, which meant changing from bilateral breathing to breathing every two to avoid a gobful of wave. Somehow that happened anyway. A wave went into my mouth, I gasped and went to cough and another wave went in. That time I was sick. Salt doesn't taste nice. Spluttering, heaving, and with eyes stinging from leaky goggles, I just generally felt quite shitty to be honest!! So I went to get my camera and amused myself taking pictures of the other ''athletes'' flapping around in the water, dunking each other and practicing their Dirty Dancing lifts.....
So, I wasn't that worried about the Majorca swim, but I am now.. Ignorance WAS bliss.
DAY 6-
Hill reps in afternoon today, which I really enjoyed. Going up on a lovely route, through some pine trees. Adrenalin pumping, I was really loving it in a weird kind of 'this is hard' way. Descending was even better, such good fun. I seem to have no fear with things like that, although one corner was pretty sharp, and I did think if a car had been coming I would have been splattered, but I learnt the next time down.
We all headed out for a drink tonight, me in my compression leggings and boots, because I didn't bring my trainers. New trend.
DAY 7-
Last day. And the anticipation of the last 15 miles and 2000 feet of climbing. At 40 miles we stopped for a drink. Cafe con leche has become the most spoken phrase throughout the holiday. It means coffee with milk. Caffeine is our friend. I couldn't drink mine though, it was too strong. My preferred coffee isn't even coffee, it just pretends to be. It is so weak it's ridiculous. So someone next to me had three coffees all lined up in front of him. Leaving the shop it was straight into rather large climbs. On the first one I was looking around, in awe of the amazing scenery. The second I was staring straight ahead. And the third I wasn't looking at anything. What a sense of achievement at the top though. Felt great. Had a tapas lunch, at which I could have just eaten everything... and did.
In the afternoon it was packing up the bikes before getting ready to have dinner at a local restaurant. I did actually pack most of it myself, but at some parts I had to go all pathetic again and wait for help. As I said, ''I may not be a princess, but I can still work it''.
Evening meal was wonderful, great food, great company. Felt tired but content. Had a great last day. And travelled in the boot of the van coming back, laughing until my sides hurt. (don't ask)
DAY 8-
Home time... so what have I been left with? The fact that I can do a long ride and then another ride the next day and still be alright. No excuses for that now. My body is capable of much more than I expected it to be, I was actually surprised at what I can do. I think I've always held back a bit thinking I was tired or not able to do such high volume, but really this week has proven that theory wrong.
I will also never complain about any hill again. Nottingham is flat compared to spain.
I need a new saddle.
I need a neoprene swim hat for cold water swims.
I know how to say coffee with milk in Spanish.
I'm now completely confident at cycling in a group/through and off/drafting.
I obviously put on muscle very easily, because after cycling for a week and burning on average 1500 calories a day, have I lost weight? Nope, I've put weight on. Nice.
I'm a much better cyclist than I was a few months ago.
That's good enough for me.
DAY 1-
Arrived at training camp late morning, and was taken to a villa near Pinoso, Alicante.
Sun was shining, and I was happy in the knowledge I had a whole week to relax and have fun. As well as training obviously.
My bike has never been abroad before, and dismantling it was a whole new experience for me. But not as much as the experience of trying to put it back together. So I did what any self reliant, confident, modern woman would do and acted all pathetic until a man came to help me.
It's amazing.. you just let out a few sighs, say how you haven't got a clue which allen key fits what and look all dejected and they appear by your side to help! It's great! Not that I had to pretend. I really didn't have a clue which allen key went where.
By the time we'd all got unpacked and built the bikes it was time for a quick run before dinner. Apart from me obviously, because I'm still not supposed to be running. So I thought I'd be all dedicated and go in the pool instead. I dipped my hand in and it felt cold, but I didn't think it'd be that bad..
wetsuit on, walked in... my god, it was like stepping into a freezer. When you wear a wetsuit and you first get in, you get that horrible feeling as the cold water sloooooowly seeps in through the zipper.. and you try to ignore it.. then you duck down a bit and it all goes in where the neckline is... aargh.. horrible. I tried putting my face in and instantly gasped and lifted my head up, it took my breath away. Up and down and up and down I went, doing a kind of weird floating bobbing breaststroke thing, until I was brave enough to actually swim properly.
Eventually managed a few lengths, but couldn't do more than 75m without stopping for air. It was THAT cold. After about 45 minutes I couldn't take it anymore, and got out. At which point a few concerned faces of those sitting on sun loungers around me pointed out that I looked very blue.
I couldn't answer because I went into an uncontrollable shaking fit and ran to have a shower. Passing the mirror on the way I saw my reflection, and I was indeed quite blue. I stayed in the shower for 20 minutes. When I got out I looked at the thermometer in the water. 12.7c. Chilly. Very.
The rest of the evening was spent just chatting and lazing around, then it was off for an early night ready to set off on a cycle the next morning.
DAY 2-
We set off at around 10am for a ride. The weather was beautiful, and the scenery stunning. After 35 miles we stopped for lunch. We found a place that was called ''Pizza and Pasta Cafe'', so far so good. After sitting down and having rather a confusing conversation with the owner, we found it was actually an indian restaurant. Mm. Nevertheless, he seemed enthusiastic and said they did pasta as well. We all ordered, and waited. And waited. And waited. Annnd waited. An hour went by. An hour and a half. Everyone knows that triathletes love to eat. And we were all starving and starting to get edgy. Two people went in separately to ask when food was going to appear. Yes, we're on the continent, but surely this was taking the laid back lifestyle a little TOO far?
When plates finally started appearing it wasn't much better... I eagerly awaited my pasta with ham and mushrooms, but what appeared was a tiny portion of pasta with a single mushroom and even less ham. And it was cold. Lovely. But that was nothing compared to what my buddy sitting opposite got! A plate of about 6 pieces of thinly sliced cheese. I took pity and gave him some of my pasta, so we were both still hungry! Haven't a clue what that was all about. Maybe they had to grow the food before they cooked it.
After the meagre meal, it was time to leave to get back. All in all we did 70 miles, that's the furthest I've ever been. I was ok, legs felt fine, but the same couldn't be said for my bits. After being on that saddle all day the burning was indescribable. Made it a priority to get a womens saddle as soon as I got home. Been saying that for the last 6 months, but I really mean it this time. Luckily the pool was so cold, because I used it as an ice bath.
DAY 3-
Day 3 was another cycle, but shorter. We did around 45. I was in a lot of pain, and kept having to stand to relieve pressure. We stopped in the local town for lunch. As we set off again, I went to clip in, and my foot slipped on the pedal, and I went bang, straight onto my already delicate bits, straight onto the crossbar. The pain shot through my whole body, and my eyes instantly filled with tears. Ooouch. After being crouched over for several minutes trying not to be sick, not wanting to look like a wimp I pushed on, but it had actually made me feel very nauseous, and I was quiet on the way home, having to focus on just turning the pedals. Back in the ice bath pool I went, this time in an even more dignified position with my legs spreadeagled. Heaven knows what the locals passing by thought I was doing.
Day 4-
Day 4 was planned to be the 100 miler, but due to heavy winds the route was changed to 80, going a different way. There was also a second route of around 55 miles, as not everyone wanted to do 100. It had been assumed the day before that I wouldn't be going anywhere on the bike, but waking up I felt good, my legs weren't tired, and I just found it ridiculous that sore bits could stop me riding. So I manned up, got ready, put half a tub of vaseline on, and got on the bike. For the first half I was fine, second half a bit more tender, but I was really glad I went. The shorter group got back earlier, and I braved the ice bath again, for swimming this time. It wasn't quite as cold, but cold enough, I still went blue. After messing about pretending to swim for 30 minutes I got out and spent the rest of the day reading and chatting to people! A few of us discussed going and doing something cultural, but the best we could find was a museum of 20,000 salt and pepper shakers and a ladyboys cabaret, so we decided to stick to cycling.
DAY 5-
Day off cycling, it was sea swim day. For those of us doing Majorca 70.3 in a few weeks time it would be a great opportunity to get some practice in. I am one of those people. But I also wasn't keen. I don't like sand. I don't like swimming in the sea. I don't like salt. But again, just get on with it. Wetsuit on, run in Baywatch style. Fall over, hat slips, goggles fill with water. Good start. Swimming out, I was surprised that I couldn't see anything. It was very cloudy in the water, and made even seeing your hand difficult. It was also quite rough, which meant changing from bilateral breathing to breathing every two to avoid a gobful of wave. Somehow that happened anyway. A wave went into my mouth, I gasped and went to cough and another wave went in. That time I was sick. Salt doesn't taste nice. Spluttering, heaving, and with eyes stinging from leaky goggles, I just generally felt quite shitty to be honest!! So I went to get my camera and amused myself taking pictures of the other ''athletes'' flapping around in the water, dunking each other and practicing their Dirty Dancing lifts.....
So, I wasn't that worried about the Majorca swim, but I am now.. Ignorance WAS bliss.
DAY 6-
Hill reps in afternoon today, which I really enjoyed. Going up on a lovely route, through some pine trees. Adrenalin pumping, I was really loving it in a weird kind of 'this is hard' way. Descending was even better, such good fun. I seem to have no fear with things like that, although one corner was pretty sharp, and I did think if a car had been coming I would have been splattered, but I learnt the next time down.
We all headed out for a drink tonight, me in my compression leggings and boots, because I didn't bring my trainers. New trend.
DAY 7-
Last day. And the anticipation of the last 15 miles and 2000 feet of climbing. At 40 miles we stopped for a drink. Cafe con leche has become the most spoken phrase throughout the holiday. It means coffee with milk. Caffeine is our friend. I couldn't drink mine though, it was too strong. My preferred coffee isn't even coffee, it just pretends to be. It is so weak it's ridiculous. So someone next to me had three coffees all lined up in front of him. Leaving the shop it was straight into rather large climbs. On the first one I was looking around, in awe of the amazing scenery. The second I was staring straight ahead. And the third I wasn't looking at anything. What a sense of achievement at the top though. Felt great. Had a tapas lunch, at which I could have just eaten everything... and did.
In the afternoon it was packing up the bikes before getting ready to have dinner at a local restaurant. I did actually pack most of it myself, but at some parts I had to go all pathetic again and wait for help. As I said, ''I may not be a princess, but I can still work it''.
Evening meal was wonderful, great food, great company. Felt tired but content. Had a great last day. And travelled in the boot of the van coming back, laughing until my sides hurt. (don't ask)
DAY 8-
Home time... so what have I been left with? The fact that I can do a long ride and then another ride the next day and still be alright. No excuses for that now. My body is capable of much more than I expected it to be, I was actually surprised at what I can do. I think I've always held back a bit thinking I was tired or not able to do such high volume, but really this week has proven that theory wrong.
I will also never complain about any hill again. Nottingham is flat compared to spain.
I need a new saddle.
I need a neoprene swim hat for cold water swims.
I know how to say coffee with milk in Spanish.
I'm now completely confident at cycling in a group/through and off/drafting.
I obviously put on muscle very easily, because after cycling for a week and burning on average 1500 calories a day, have I lost weight? Nope, I've put weight on. Nice.
I'm a much better cyclist than I was a few months ago.
That's good enough for me.
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