I woke up yesterday and decided to try out my head torch. It an Alpkit Gamma and it worked brilliantly so no new head torch required for the night race on the 13th in Dalkeith Country Park. I'm heading over with John Woodrow and Iain Taylor, for the people that don't know these guys they are two speedy runners that will finish ages ahead of me. Last night I spent an hour on the turbo to loosen off the legs - slept well last night!
Today I did my long, slow run. I set out with the dog early for his morning walk planning the route for my run. As we turned at the top of the village the rain hit us and I changed plan and head into the gym in the house. Now the treadmill takes a certain amount of patience and today I needed a load of the stuff. I targeted 1 hour and 20 minutes and set the treadmill at a fairly slow pace of 7mph - Sky Sports News kept me company and my mind drifted off to think of other things. So I managed to get into double digits completing 10 miles which was great, over 1200 calories burnt. This weeks weigh in was good as well with another 2lb gone making it 9lb since new year, bang on target or even a pound ahead!
I think I've said before that running is the time I use to clear my head and today was no different. I tackled a few business challenges and soon had a few ideas which I knew would set me up for a good work day.
I thought back to the last of the marathons that I raced in Inverness, the Loch Ness Marathon in 2008 (or 2009 - scary how the memory fails!). I'd arranged to meet a few friends up in Inverness and was looking forward to the social side of the race as much as the marathon. The pasta party near the registration start was too early so a group of 6 of us met in an Italian near the River Ness. Inverness is the town of my birth and I still love it. There are many great restaurants, like my favourite Cafe One, but we wanted pasta and lots of it.
One of the guys that was meeting me was a Scotsman, living abroad in Wales, called Mark Williamson. Mark is an awesome man who has raised a £1,000,000 for Macmillan Cancer Care running marathons all around the work. Mark is a giver and had offered to pace me round in a sub 4 time. Dinner was fab and the chat better as we all caught up with each others news.
The chat dried up in the morning as we jumped on the buses to the start. Loch Ness is an unusual race in that you get on a bus drive 25 miles out of Inverness and get out to run back into town. I met up with Mark after the usual 10 trips to the portaloo (or bushes). Mark has run some very impressive times around the 3 hour mark - today was a breeze as we had an hour in hand on that!
The start was stunning, sunny and in the wilderness. It's funny because although you are running 26.2 miles the start was a sprint. Mark held me back, despite my desire to charge off, and people flooded past us. The race is hilly, one huge hill but loads of ups and downs some of which are quite steep. Mark held me back on the downhills, little steps little steps he kept muttering as he checked his watch.
Every time I started to speed up I was slowed down and we ran a steady pace for the first 10 miles. As usual I was loving taking part and we both chatted to fellow runners as we made our way along the roads. Don't you hate the headphones that would rob you of the chat! As the miles past the undulations settled down and the road flattened out. I bumped into a few Carnegie Harriers on the way round swapping stories of running in Dunfermline.
My pacer kept me at bay, checking my enthusiasm and reminding me of my target. Mark was relaxed, running well within himself and great craic. We laughed and joked passing mile after mile and Mark spent his time whooping up the crowd into a frenzy as we passed through the various villages. With about 18 miles done you hit the hill. The hill that everyone talked about before the start, the hill that runners spoke in awe of and the hill that would break the spirit of the unprepared racer.
I was still feeling strong and kept a steady plod going to climb the hill fairly easily. Mark continued with the encouragement and kept checking time was still on our side. About 4 miles from one I started to slow down. I was beginning to struggle with the pace and my knee was sore. 2 miles later and I was down to a crawl. My feet scraped the ground and the pace dropped. Mark ran backwards in front of me shouting motivational stuff.
Loch Ness finishes in the Bught Park which means that you can hear the cheers at the finish line when you still have a mile and a half to do. This was quite dispiriting but with my running mentor jogging backwards I managed to keep running, or moving forward dragging my feet along the road. The only really good thing was that I knew the route to the finish so always was aware about how far we had to go. An advantage and disadvantage at the same time!
Never has the 800 metres to go sign been more welcomed and as we turned into the running track I waved Mark ahead of me in a lone guard of honour! He had been fantastic and I finished in 3:56 and broke my 4 hour target. It felt brilliant having a marathon time that started with a 3 and to be honest I didn't care it was only 4 minutes inside the 4 hours my finish time began with a 3. I crossed the line, gave Mark a hug and a bit teary called Danielle to tell he mission accomplished. I was chatting away to her when I looked round to see Mark sitting down and people getting him a glass of water. He told me it was his slowest marathon and he wasn't used to spending nearly 4 hours on his feet!
It was brilliant having the support of someone running purely to support your efforts and I owe Mark a huge debt of thanks for what he did that day for me. It cemented our friendship and he remains convinced that I have a sub 3.30 marathon in me. I hae ma doots but if I trained and Mark paced me who knows what I am capable of!
Loch Ness was my favourite marathon to date. Not because I beat my PB but because it is a stunning course in my favourite part of the world. If you fancy doing a marathon I'd recommend it!
Wednesday 30 January 2013
Monday 28 January 2013
LEJOG - Non stop team challenge
Well it's been a busy few days with work, social stuff and a little training as well.
Much has been done on the turbo and outside running. The miserable snow has been replaced by rain and it feels like normal weather service is resumed. I ran to a meeting this morning and ran home after which was an efficient use of time if a bit of a mixed experience for those I was meeting. To be honest they didn't both and I kept my jacket on to avoid too much whiff escaping! So it turned out I ran 7 miles in just under an hour which I really enjoyed! I was accompanied by Train, the band, on my iPhone. Music is a great way of getting through the exercise and passing time quickly.
Tonight I spent an hour on the turbo and worked up a good old sweat!
I'm loving training again and I look forward to the sessions that I have planned building base fitness. It's a long journey.
I love biking and since I moved to Fife have met loads of great folk through cycling. A few years ago I was fortunate to be out on the bike with a couple of lads when the suggestion of let's do LEJOG (Lands End to John O Groats) on tandems. I was reminded of this because of the terrible accident yesterday when two young tandem riders where killed by a guy avoiding the police. Really sad but a reminder how risky the roads are.
After much debate we decided against the tandems and agreed that we would do it in 3 groups of 2 riders and ride continuously starting from Lands End. We had 2 support drivers and split the 6 of us into three evenly matched pairs. I was to cycle with Derek with 4 hours on the bike, rest for 8 hours and then back on the bike. We drove through the night setting off from Dunfermline at 5pm on a Wednesday night in early September. It was a mad time of year with about 12 hours of daylight each day. Derek and I took the first shift at 8am from a deserted and desolate Lands End.
The first shift was easy and we were assisted by good blowing westerly. We handed over to the speed kings, Stuart and Graeme. They immediately hit the first of the hills. The section up to Bristol is the hilliest section of the route and the boys did well making light of the first climbs. We had strategically booked a few hotels to get some rest en route and we had a nap while our wingman, Derek Fett, grabbed a couple of hours kip. These events are not possible without support and with Derek and Bruce we were in safe hands.
The third pair in the party were Ronnie and Ed, an awesome pair of rock solid bikers. Nothing much affected them and they made good pace which was remarkable given Ed was on his sturdy Dawes. Fantastic on the downhills because of the weight of the beast but a nightmare to drag up hill.
Derek and I took over at Taunton with the plan of handing over again at some place over the Severn Bridge. We had a good laugh in a BP garage when we convinced the girls that we were doing the entire trip by ourselves. When she asked where we were going and we replied John O Groats she turned to her colleague and said ‘wow that’s the top of England!’ and where have you come from she said ‘wow that’s the bottom of England!’ When we left the shop they were pouring over maps….
As retribution for our fib, Derek left his glasses. Unbelievable the girls turned up half an hour later with them – people are great.
As we arrived in Bristol I unclipped my right pedal and leaned, inexplicably, to the left! Donkey! With no damage done we were led through Bristol by the other member of the support team Bruce. He took us on a route we'd never of found with out support. It was midnight when we passed the baton on to Stuart and Graeme again.
The boys did an awesome job through the night and I was back on the road at 8am in Shrewbury and we put in another good stretch leading on up to Lancaster. Ronnie and Ed tamed the mighty Shap climb while we grabbed some food in the pub in the village waving our courageous friends as they passed the bar!
We picked up the batten again at Carlisle – the route was described as undulating by Derek over our power food in the pub (Lasagne and chips). It was a foul night – incessant rain that clawed through your clothes and left you feeling abjectly miserable. We reached Langholm and the old IBS was kicking in big style so we found a pub and I slipped off to pay a visit.
When I returned, Derek was chatting to this lady (older) standing by the bikes. She had obviously had one or two sherbets and seemed interested in the challenge we were on. She had a grand-daughter that is going to be hugely famous apparently - don't know if she is by now but who knows!
The pub people appeared out and on finding out what were doing disappeared only to re-emerge out of the pub with 2 tins of lucozade – people en route were great!
Once we got moving again we were faced with the climb up to Hawick – Derek fortified by lucozade flew up the hills – I gritted my teeth and hung on to the back of him as best I could. The climb lasted an age but we were cheered half way by the appearance of Derek F. Derek F was a hero. The rain and mist was playing havoc with vision but with Derek behind us we felt safe.
A car passed Derek and then sat beside him, all on a blind bend. He asked if was a charity bike ride – when answered positively a £10 note was thrust through the window – amazing.
By now the rain was not only incessant it was torrential.
Shirley, Derek’s wife, kindly picked us up in Serkirk and we handed over to Stuart and Graeme who must be the children of some rain king because every time they got on the bikes it absolutely bucketed – they arrived at the Forth Road Bridge after a horrible cycle at around 3.30am. Another fantastic achievement.
We managed to get home for a few hours rest which was brilliant! The next morning refreshed we met the boys at 8am in Pitlochry. Remarkably we were still on plan and we targeted Aviemore. After a brief stop in Dalwinnie for a bacon roll we flew down to Aviemore in no time at all. The next section included a few miles on the scary A9 and the boys managed it without complaint. I was un-nerved at the speed of the cars passing them but they just ploughed out the miles head down.
The penultimate section was another hilly section from Tain to Berrydale by which time the fog had rolled in. It was late Saturday afternoon and everyone was feeling the effects of tiredness but the end was in sight. Derek and I took over at the bottom of the Berrydale hill and started with a 2km climb. The last 70km was magical under the clear skies. We all met up for the last 10km and rode down to into John O Groats at 9.20pm on the Saturday night.
It was a brilliant and epic trip. There are so many stories that I could add but at the end of it we completed the ride in 62 hours and were all dead chuffed with the achievement. In the entire route we only had one puncture which happened just before Dalwinnie and deflated us enough to head for the bacon rolls. It was a memorable and amazing journey.
Parts of the route were very busy and other parts a bit scary in the dark. Without a top support team it would have been impossible but with the people that took part it was fantastic fun!
I've attached the before and after pictures!
Much has been done on the turbo and outside running. The miserable snow has been replaced by rain and it feels like normal weather service is resumed. I ran to a meeting this morning and ran home after which was an efficient use of time if a bit of a mixed experience for those I was meeting. To be honest they didn't both and I kept my jacket on to avoid too much whiff escaping! So it turned out I ran 7 miles in just under an hour which I really enjoyed! I was accompanied by Train, the band, on my iPhone. Music is a great way of getting through the exercise and passing time quickly.
Tonight I spent an hour on the turbo and worked up a good old sweat!
I'm loving training again and I look forward to the sessions that I have planned building base fitness. It's a long journey.
I love biking and since I moved to Fife have met loads of great folk through cycling. A few years ago I was fortunate to be out on the bike with a couple of lads when the suggestion of let's do LEJOG (Lands End to John O Groats) on tandems. I was reminded of this because of the terrible accident yesterday when two young tandem riders where killed by a guy avoiding the police. Really sad but a reminder how risky the roads are.
After much debate we decided against the tandems and agreed that we would do it in 3 groups of 2 riders and ride continuously starting from Lands End. We had 2 support drivers and split the 6 of us into three evenly matched pairs. I was to cycle with Derek with 4 hours on the bike, rest for 8 hours and then back on the bike. We drove through the night setting off from Dunfermline at 5pm on a Wednesday night in early September. It was a mad time of year with about 12 hours of daylight each day. Derek and I took the first shift at 8am from a deserted and desolate Lands End.
The first shift was easy and we were assisted by good blowing westerly. We handed over to the speed kings, Stuart and Graeme. They immediately hit the first of the hills. The section up to Bristol is the hilliest section of the route and the boys did well making light of the first climbs. We had strategically booked a few hotels to get some rest en route and we had a nap while our wingman, Derek Fett, grabbed a couple of hours kip. These events are not possible without support and with Derek and Bruce we were in safe hands.
The third pair in the party were Ronnie and Ed, an awesome pair of rock solid bikers. Nothing much affected them and they made good pace which was remarkable given Ed was on his sturdy Dawes. Fantastic on the downhills because of the weight of the beast but a nightmare to drag up hill.
Derek and I took over at Taunton with the plan of handing over again at some place over the Severn Bridge. We had a good laugh in a BP garage when we convinced the girls that we were doing the entire trip by ourselves. When she asked where we were going and we replied John O Groats she turned to her colleague and said ‘wow that’s the top of England!’ and where have you come from she said ‘wow that’s the bottom of England!’ When we left the shop they were pouring over maps….
As retribution for our fib, Derek left his glasses. Unbelievable the girls turned up half an hour later with them – people are great.
As we arrived in Bristol I unclipped my right pedal and leaned, inexplicably, to the left! Donkey! With no damage done we were led through Bristol by the other member of the support team Bruce. He took us on a route we'd never of found with out support. It was midnight when we passed the baton on to Stuart and Graeme again.
The boys did an awesome job through the night and I was back on the road at 8am in Shrewbury and we put in another good stretch leading on up to Lancaster. Ronnie and Ed tamed the mighty Shap climb while we grabbed some food in the pub in the village waving our courageous friends as they passed the bar!
We picked up the batten again at Carlisle – the route was described as undulating by Derek over our power food in the pub (Lasagne and chips). It was a foul night – incessant rain that clawed through your clothes and left you feeling abjectly miserable. We reached Langholm and the old IBS was kicking in big style so we found a pub and I slipped off to pay a visit.
When I returned, Derek was chatting to this lady (older) standing by the bikes. She had obviously had one or two sherbets and seemed interested in the challenge we were on. She had a grand-daughter that is going to be hugely famous apparently - don't know if she is by now but who knows!
The pub people appeared out and on finding out what were doing disappeared only to re-emerge out of the pub with 2 tins of lucozade – people en route were great!
Once we got moving again we were faced with the climb up to Hawick – Derek fortified by lucozade flew up the hills – I gritted my teeth and hung on to the back of him as best I could. The climb lasted an age but we were cheered half way by the appearance of Derek F. Derek F was a hero. The rain and mist was playing havoc with vision but with Derek behind us we felt safe.
A car passed Derek and then sat beside him, all on a blind bend. He asked if was a charity bike ride – when answered positively a £10 note was thrust through the window – amazing.
By now the rain was not only incessant it was torrential.
Shirley, Derek’s wife, kindly picked us up in Serkirk and we handed over to Stuart and Graeme who must be the children of some rain king because every time they got on the bikes it absolutely bucketed – they arrived at the Forth Road Bridge after a horrible cycle at around 3.30am. Another fantastic achievement.
We managed to get home for a few hours rest which was brilliant! The next morning refreshed we met the boys at 8am in Pitlochry. Remarkably we were still on plan and we targeted Aviemore. After a brief stop in Dalwinnie for a bacon roll we flew down to Aviemore in no time at all. The next section included a few miles on the scary A9 and the boys managed it without complaint. I was un-nerved at the speed of the cars passing them but they just ploughed out the miles head down.
The penultimate section was another hilly section from Tain to Berrydale by which time the fog had rolled in. It was late Saturday afternoon and everyone was feeling the effects of tiredness but the end was in sight. Derek and I took over at the bottom of the Berrydale hill and started with a 2km climb. The last 70km was magical under the clear skies. We all met up for the last 10km and rode down to into John O Groats at 9.20pm on the Saturday night.
It was a brilliant and epic trip. There are so many stories that I could add but at the end of it we completed the ride in 62 hours and were all dead chuffed with the achievement. In the entire route we only had one puncture which happened just before Dalwinnie and deflated us enough to head for the bacon rolls. It was a memorable and amazing journey.
Parts of the route were very busy and other parts a bit scary in the dark. Without a top support team it would have been impossible but with the people that took part it was fantastic fun!
I've attached the before and after pictures!
Thursday 24 January 2013
No body for the budgie smugglers!!
I woke up today in the sure knowledge that it had to be done. I had to start sometime and it might as well be today.
I went to the cupboard, my side of the cupboard is not the tidy side of the cupboard and after a rake around my two boxes of shorts, longs, bike shorts and swim kit I eventually found my swim shorts. I decided that the budgie smugglers might be a bit much for the good people of Dunfermline so picked up a more discreet pair. Another dig in my 'man drawer' found my goggles and I was ready to roll.
So at lunchtime I made my way, slightly nervously, to the pool. It was actually quite quiet, except for the swimming lanes which were packed with people doggy paddling up and down. Not sure why Dunfermline doesn't have a fast and a slow lane like most places but there you go. As the pool itself was relatively quiet I jumped in, pulled the goggles on and started my attempt at front crawl. Ian Hill had advised that I should practice pushing my chest into the water in an effort to keep my legs up. So I did much pushing of my chest into the water and I think I was actually swimming at one point.
After a few minutes I managed to relax and started reflecting on life, the universe and everything. It's good to reflect on where you are in the stages of life and the pool gives you that opportunity. Anyway my relaxed thoughts took my focus off my breathing and I managed to swim a kilometre without killing myself and I could have carried on. I had decided to see if I could do 400m but felt pretty good so carried on. Not the fastest but a good start!
I have to confess that I was pretty happy climbing out of the water as I hadn't expected the swim to come quite so easily.
Tomorrow is a rest day which is fantastic - can't wait!
I went to the cupboard, my side of the cupboard is not the tidy side of the cupboard and after a rake around my two boxes of shorts, longs, bike shorts and swim kit I eventually found my swim shorts. I decided that the budgie smugglers might be a bit much for the good people of Dunfermline so picked up a more discreet pair. Another dig in my 'man drawer' found my goggles and I was ready to roll.
So at lunchtime I made my way, slightly nervously, to the pool. It was actually quite quiet, except for the swimming lanes which were packed with people doggy paddling up and down. Not sure why Dunfermline doesn't have a fast and a slow lane like most places but there you go. As the pool itself was relatively quiet I jumped in, pulled the goggles on and started my attempt at front crawl. Ian Hill had advised that I should practice pushing my chest into the water in an effort to keep my legs up. So I did much pushing of my chest into the water and I think I was actually swimming at one point.
After a few minutes I managed to relax and started reflecting on life, the universe and everything. It's good to reflect on where you are in the stages of life and the pool gives you that opportunity. Anyway my relaxed thoughts took my focus off my breathing and I managed to swim a kilometre without killing myself and I could have carried on. I had decided to see if I could do 400m but felt pretty good so carried on. Not the fastest but a good start!
I have to confess that I was pretty happy climbing out of the water as I hadn't expected the swim to come quite so easily.
Tomorrow is a rest day which is fantastic - can't wait!
Wednesday 23 January 2013
Dancing on ice!
It was a cracking morning. The below zero temperatures ensured that the snow had frozen in Carnock and the melted water runs from the snow had frozen hard overnight. It was slippy!
So first thing I had planned to run with a friend from the house. On reviewing the conditions we headed down to Culross and set off from the balmy coast. I love running by the sea and this morning was no exception. It was a crisp, clear morning and whilst there was no sun it was pleasant enough when we got moving.
My partner today was Claire. She's targeting a 10k later in the spring and set the pace. It's always motivating to run with someone else, share the chat and catch up on all the news. The time flew by and we were soon at the bottom of the hill that leads up to High Valleyfield. Claire advised that we might need to walk a few sections but we put the head down and made it all the way to the top.
We carried on down the other side of the hill and back to the cafe in Culross. The Biscuit Cafe in Culross is cake heaven and it took all my willpower to step away from the scones. I had a quick cup of coffee, said goodbye to Claire and set off on the run home. I headed back up the hill into High Valleyfield, checking directions from a couple of dog walkers and headed into the forest tracks. The route goes up past the special needs riding centre, which is a brilliant place and then up the hill towards Oakley. By the time I had climbed back up to the top of the hill there was snow on the track.
The snow was frozen on top but soft underneath and made a satisfying crunch with each footprint. It was like popping bubble wrap which for some unknown reason is incredibly satisfying as well - don't know why. It was slightly less satisfying when there was a puddle under the frozen top and my shoes were plunged into the mucky water.
You always need to watch for dogs - most are fine but having been bitten whilst running up in Skye I've always been wary. In that case I couldn't believe it when I heard that the owner put the dog down. In my view it wasn't the dog's fault just a terrible owner - I felt guilty for ages. I have a dog myself who I never let off the lead because of the risks - they are animals after all.
Anyway I weighed in again and have now lost half a stone - a small celebration and positive reinforcement that the work that I'm putting in is working, especially after the weekend in Dublin.
So 9 miles done and my mileage is increasing without any stresses on the legs. I remain injury free and really enjoying the training. 10% increase week on week I was told avoids injury and this seems to work.
Loving it!
So first thing I had planned to run with a friend from the house. On reviewing the conditions we headed down to Culross and set off from the balmy coast. I love running by the sea and this morning was no exception. It was a crisp, clear morning and whilst there was no sun it was pleasant enough when we got moving.
My partner today was Claire. She's targeting a 10k later in the spring and set the pace. It's always motivating to run with someone else, share the chat and catch up on all the news. The time flew by and we were soon at the bottom of the hill that leads up to High Valleyfield. Claire advised that we might need to walk a few sections but we put the head down and made it all the way to the top.
We carried on down the other side of the hill and back to the cafe in Culross. The Biscuit Cafe in Culross is cake heaven and it took all my willpower to step away from the scones. I had a quick cup of coffee, said goodbye to Claire and set off on the run home. I headed back up the hill into High Valleyfield, checking directions from a couple of dog walkers and headed into the forest tracks. The route goes up past the special needs riding centre, which is a brilliant place and then up the hill towards Oakley. By the time I had climbed back up to the top of the hill there was snow on the track.
The snow was frozen on top but soft underneath and made a satisfying crunch with each footprint. It was like popping bubble wrap which for some unknown reason is incredibly satisfying as well - don't know why. It was slightly less satisfying when there was a puddle under the frozen top and my shoes were plunged into the mucky water.
You always need to watch for dogs - most are fine but having been bitten whilst running up in Skye I've always been wary. In that case I couldn't believe it when I heard that the owner put the dog down. In my view it wasn't the dog's fault just a terrible owner - I felt guilty for ages. I have a dog myself who I never let off the lead because of the risks - they are animals after all.
Anyway I weighed in again and have now lost half a stone - a small celebration and positive reinforcement that the work that I'm putting in is working, especially after the weekend in Dublin.
So 9 miles done and my mileage is increasing without any stresses on the legs. I remain injury free and really enjoying the training. 10% increase week on week I was told avoids injury and this seems to work.
Loving it!
Tuesday 22 January 2013
Well the weather outside is frightful.....
Don't you just hate the snow and cold. I've never been a skier and the stuff feels alien beneath my feet.
My lasting memory of having planks strapped to my feet left me feeling the slopes were not for me. One of the Architects I worked with held an annual ski race and having a great working relationship I entered our office enlisting a few Franz Klammers to form the team with me. Only minor issue was that I didn't ski. This however wasn't a problem as I had a couple of weeks to learn and Edinburgh does have the best artificial ski slope in the UK or it did at the time.
I duly met a mate who skied on the tiddly slope at Hillend, strapped the alien objects on my feet and set off for the tow. We made our way to the top of the slope and bob a job I was skier, not only a skier but a proficient one. I could snowplough quite happily and stop at the bottom of the starter area. Piece of cake, how hard could this be! After a couple more sessions I could gingerly make my way up the tow and snowplough down the slope from the middle station. I was a natural and slightly surprised I wasn't a distance relative of Franz himself. Franz is the only skier I know and his name will be liberally used in comparison with my own skills.
Duely prepared I set off to Aviemore with my team and all their kit. Imagine having skis I though as we packed the car. Anyway, armed with the confidence of an idiot, we got up early, hired boots, skis and poles and set off for the slopes. The guys donned their ski stuff, I pulled on my waterproof trousers. I was so ready for this. The boys set off to the lift. I didn't have a huge experience of lifts but just did what everyone did except they didn't fall when they tried to get off. I dusted myself down and we headed for the start of the race. Skiing was wonderful! Well it was for about 10 seconds. The guys I was with we're good on ski's. It was also fast and felt nothing like snowploughing down Hillend. It was also scary, very scary. Suddenly the world seemed to be rushing past me as I gathered pace and seemed to lose control. My colleagues were off. They looked cool. I had to do something so I fell over before I took someone out. I think it was a controlled fall but I must of looked a right plonker as a few more skilled skiers appeared to check the guy in the walking jacket was ok. I was fine if a little shaken.
Fortunately there were signs leading me to the start line. I put all of my training into practice and snowploughed to about 100 metres from the start - I could see it but sadly couldn't see a way of getting there as the slope was a vertical drop. It was probably no more than my drive but at the time looked like the north face of the Eiger! It suddenly struck me that 2 lessons might have left me a little under prepared for something that looked all bumpy and lumpy, moguls I believe they are called. In the end I'm embarrassed to admit I slid down to the start on my bum. This did cause the organisers some concern but I assured them I was fine and just messing about. The course wouldn't be that steep would it.......
I was towards the end of the field and this gave me the opportunity to watch a few fellow 'racers' speeding off down the slope to the first gate. My heart was racing, the only thing that would be that day, as I stood at the start gate. There was a bit of a groove formed in the snow so I figured follow the line to gate 1. I was off. The speed built quickly as I traversed the hill hurtling to the first gate, next thing I was there and by some miracle I made it round the gate. The excitement coursed through my veins, I could do this, who knows maybe I had the spirit of Franz and the racer inside would lead me to the podium.
I started to turn into gate 2, my bottom ski went from under me and I was gone. I tumbled and fell spectacularly into the waiting snow. My race was skied. I picked myself up and re-attached my skies. To be honest I had no idea why I did that other than it seemed the right thing to do. So I side slipped my way to the bottom of the course where the organisers kindly offered me the opportunity of taking my run again. I declined the offer and quietly sloped off when the focus went onto the next racer speeding down.
I pottered my way down the slope, unwitnessed and terrified. Eventually I found grass at the side of the piste and my rescue was complete. I wandered down the grass, picked up a coffee and sat in the cafe waiting for my car mates - this took some time as they skied the afternoon away. On returning to our hotel we all met up in the bar for dinner and a couple of drinks. I didn't join into the skiing chat but word of my demise had reached the assembled party causing much hilarity. I didn't explain that this was my first time on snow and my third time on skies as my foolishness would have been complete.
I was in fact a winner as I got the prize for the most spectacular fall of the day. On top of this I learned that I didn't win the prize for the fastest fall of the day as some poor soul had fallen at gate 1. So I held my head a little higher. The swagger returned to my step, I wasn't last and I'd won a prize.
Maybe, just maybe there was a Franz Klammer living inside me and I should get back on the slopes again. Or maybe not.........
Did an hour on the spin bike tonight and it looks like the snow is melting so running again tomorrow just to keep you in the loop with the training!
My lasting memory of having planks strapped to my feet left me feeling the slopes were not for me. One of the Architects I worked with held an annual ski race and having a great working relationship I entered our office enlisting a few Franz Klammers to form the team with me. Only minor issue was that I didn't ski. This however wasn't a problem as I had a couple of weeks to learn and Edinburgh does have the best artificial ski slope in the UK or it did at the time.
I duly met a mate who skied on the tiddly slope at Hillend, strapped the alien objects on my feet and set off for the tow. We made our way to the top of the slope and bob a job I was skier, not only a skier but a proficient one. I could snowplough quite happily and stop at the bottom of the starter area. Piece of cake, how hard could this be! After a couple more sessions I could gingerly make my way up the tow and snowplough down the slope from the middle station. I was a natural and slightly surprised I wasn't a distance relative of Franz himself. Franz is the only skier I know and his name will be liberally used in comparison with my own skills.
Duely prepared I set off to Aviemore with my team and all their kit. Imagine having skis I though as we packed the car. Anyway, armed with the confidence of an idiot, we got up early, hired boots, skis and poles and set off for the slopes. The guys donned their ski stuff, I pulled on my waterproof trousers. I was so ready for this. The boys set off to the lift. I didn't have a huge experience of lifts but just did what everyone did except they didn't fall when they tried to get off. I dusted myself down and we headed for the start of the race. Skiing was wonderful! Well it was for about 10 seconds. The guys I was with we're good on ski's. It was also fast and felt nothing like snowploughing down Hillend. It was also scary, very scary. Suddenly the world seemed to be rushing past me as I gathered pace and seemed to lose control. My colleagues were off. They looked cool. I had to do something so I fell over before I took someone out. I think it was a controlled fall but I must of looked a right plonker as a few more skilled skiers appeared to check the guy in the walking jacket was ok. I was fine if a little shaken.
Fortunately there were signs leading me to the start line. I put all of my training into practice and snowploughed to about 100 metres from the start - I could see it but sadly couldn't see a way of getting there as the slope was a vertical drop. It was probably no more than my drive but at the time looked like the north face of the Eiger! It suddenly struck me that 2 lessons might have left me a little under prepared for something that looked all bumpy and lumpy, moguls I believe they are called. In the end I'm embarrassed to admit I slid down to the start on my bum. This did cause the organisers some concern but I assured them I was fine and just messing about. The course wouldn't be that steep would it.......
I was towards the end of the field and this gave me the opportunity to watch a few fellow 'racers' speeding off down the slope to the first gate. My heart was racing, the only thing that would be that day, as I stood at the start gate. There was a bit of a groove formed in the snow so I figured follow the line to gate 1. I was off. The speed built quickly as I traversed the hill hurtling to the first gate, next thing I was there and by some miracle I made it round the gate. The excitement coursed through my veins, I could do this, who knows maybe I had the spirit of Franz and the racer inside would lead me to the podium.
I started to turn into gate 2, my bottom ski went from under me and I was gone. I tumbled and fell spectacularly into the waiting snow. My race was skied. I picked myself up and re-attached my skies. To be honest I had no idea why I did that other than it seemed the right thing to do. So I side slipped my way to the bottom of the course where the organisers kindly offered me the opportunity of taking my run again. I declined the offer and quietly sloped off when the focus went onto the next racer speeding down.
I pottered my way down the slope, unwitnessed and terrified. Eventually I found grass at the side of the piste and my rescue was complete. I wandered down the grass, picked up a coffee and sat in the cafe waiting for my car mates - this took some time as they skied the afternoon away. On returning to our hotel we all met up in the bar for dinner and a couple of drinks. I didn't join into the skiing chat but word of my demise had reached the assembled party causing much hilarity. I didn't explain that this was my first time on snow and my third time on skies as my foolishness would have been complete.
I was in fact a winner as I got the prize for the most spectacular fall of the day. On top of this I learned that I didn't win the prize for the fastest fall of the day as some poor soul had fallen at gate 1. So I held my head a little higher. The swagger returned to my step, I wasn't last and I'd won a prize.
Maybe, just maybe there was a Franz Klammer living inside me and I should get back on the slopes again. Or maybe not.........
Did an hour on the spin bike tonight and it looks like the snow is melting so running again tomorrow just to keep you in the loop with the training!
Sunday 20 January 2013
In Dublins fair city.....
Just back from a fantastic weekend in Dublin with Danielle staying with our friends Derek and Fiona.
The plan was to run on Friday and Saturday and enjoy a chilled out Sunday morning before flying back just after lunch. The horizontal rain and gale that greeted us put an end to that. I prowled around Derek and Fiona's flat down at Sandimount by the sea just a few minutes outside of Dublin's centre hoping the rain might relent and wind might drop. No chance and I might be mad but really didn't fancy getting completely hosed.
Friday evening was spent at the Sky Party that followed the opening of the new office that had taken place that day. The place was buzzing when I arrived at the back of six. These Irish guys know how to party! The evening sped by chatting with the guys who had completed the fit out and Danielle took me round the office which is fantastic. It was a challenging project that they pulled off and they should be proud of the awesome office that they created.
So after a long lie, Fiona and I set off for a run. Fiona is a fellow multi sport athlete having completed the London to Paris bike ride with husband Derek and many sportives and bike races. She's also a keen swimmer and I got the impression an all round talent (triathlon beckons). We set off running down to the shore line and onto the beach - although it was windy and freezing it was just brilliant running on the beach. We reached the point passing the kite flyers and cockle pickers and turned back towards the flat on the road.
The paths were very muddy with all of Friday's rain and whilst Fiona gracefully picked her way round the flooded mud fest I slipped and slided my way round with my uncertain foot placing and half expecting a major fall! The paths were busy with runners and I was a bit surprised at how few people respond to a wave or hello. The runners of Dublin are very focussed.
After returning towards the flat we went back down to the beach and head down into the wind we ploughed along the hard sand. I love running on the beach but sadly haven't done it very often. Fiona cautioned me to watch out for the water rats that run out of the gabions that form the sea wall - that certainly focussed the eyes and I ran on full alert along the beach.
Fiona turned out to be an excellent partner and we blethered the entire way round. She is an excellent runner with good style in the way she runs and I reckon with a bit of speed work could be very fast. We finished up back on the road and picked up the pace to complete 5 miles back to the flat.
After a brilliant day and night out yesterday comprising some Guinness, a nice meal, some tourist river dance dancing and some diddly diddly music last night it was back on with the running shoes this morning. Fiona was up and ready when I wandered through to the lounge.
We set off, avoiding the swamps and ran along the coast and back through the village. We both felt pretty strong and pushed the pace coming back on the 5k loop back to the flat. I was loving being out so carried on and did loop 2 so finished up with 5 miles yesterday and 6 miles this morning.
It was a fab weekend with great friends, 2 awesome scenic runs and the best Guinness I've Ever tasted. We also saw a band playing in the street who were really good and I now own their back catalogue of Cd's having bought them on the street on Saturday. They are called Keywest
Dublin is a great place for a weekend!
The plan was to run on Friday and Saturday and enjoy a chilled out Sunday morning before flying back just after lunch. The horizontal rain and gale that greeted us put an end to that. I prowled around Derek and Fiona's flat down at Sandimount by the sea just a few minutes outside of Dublin's centre hoping the rain might relent and wind might drop. No chance and I might be mad but really didn't fancy getting completely hosed.
Friday evening was spent at the Sky Party that followed the opening of the new office that had taken place that day. The place was buzzing when I arrived at the back of six. These Irish guys know how to party! The evening sped by chatting with the guys who had completed the fit out and Danielle took me round the office which is fantastic. It was a challenging project that they pulled off and they should be proud of the awesome office that they created.
So after a long lie, Fiona and I set off for a run. Fiona is a fellow multi sport athlete having completed the London to Paris bike ride with husband Derek and many sportives and bike races. She's also a keen swimmer and I got the impression an all round talent (triathlon beckons). We set off running down to the shore line and onto the beach - although it was windy and freezing it was just brilliant running on the beach. We reached the point passing the kite flyers and cockle pickers and turned back towards the flat on the road.
The paths were very muddy with all of Friday's rain and whilst Fiona gracefully picked her way round the flooded mud fest I slipped and slided my way round with my uncertain foot placing and half expecting a major fall! The paths were busy with runners and I was a bit surprised at how few people respond to a wave or hello. The runners of Dublin are very focussed.
After returning towards the flat we went back down to the beach and head down into the wind we ploughed along the hard sand. I love running on the beach but sadly haven't done it very often. Fiona cautioned me to watch out for the water rats that run out of the gabions that form the sea wall - that certainly focussed the eyes and I ran on full alert along the beach.
Fiona turned out to be an excellent partner and we blethered the entire way round. She is an excellent runner with good style in the way she runs and I reckon with a bit of speed work could be very fast. We finished up back on the road and picked up the pace to complete 5 miles back to the flat.
After a brilliant day and night out yesterday comprising some Guinness, a nice meal, some tourist river dance dancing and some diddly diddly music last night it was back on with the running shoes this morning. Fiona was up and ready when I wandered through to the lounge.
We set off, avoiding the swamps and ran along the coast and back through the village. We both felt pretty strong and pushed the pace coming back on the 5k loop back to the flat. I was loving being out so carried on and did loop 2 so finished up with 5 miles yesterday and 6 miles this morning.
It was a fab weekend with great friends, 2 awesome scenic runs and the best Guinness I've Ever tasted. We also saw a band playing in the street who were really good and I now own their back catalogue of Cd's having bought them on the street on Saturday. They are called Keywest
Dublin is a great place for a weekend!
Friday 18 January 2013
Paris (marathon) in the springtime
I'm sure there are a few folk who might read this have done the Paris Marathon. It is an amazing race around the streets of one of my favourite cities.
The marathon is held in April a couple of weeks after London, if I remember correctly. It's a typically huge event with many thousands of runners taking part. We had decided to take a week off with the race being on the first weekend of our holiday. It's always good to get the strenuous exercise out of the way so that the fine food and wine of Paris can be sampled without the fear of messing up the race strategy.
I met up with a few friends that I knew were racing at a pre-organised pasta party on the Champs-Elysees the night before the race. It was a great meeting up with other racers all with the common goal of finishing in their fastest time. The party included runners who we aiming at 2:30, very speedy and others aiming to beat their own 5 hour barrier. My target was a sub 4, exactly the same as Edinburgh the year before.
The pasta party also gave a great opportunity to meet other runners with the same target. I bumped into a welsh lad who had the same ambition. Our running pasts were very similar and we had the same personal bests for 10k and half marathon so it felt like a good combination. In any distance event your mood, energy levels and confidence varies from high to low therefore running with a partner of similar pace is a good way of helping you through the bad patches. It is unlikely that your bad patches will coincide with your partner and thus you drag each other on when times get tough.
Those that know me will describe me as a glass half full type of person, an optimist and possibly over optimistic. I will always respond positively to a question about how I feel on the basis that I genuinely believe that life is, on the whole, fantastic. I feel at a good stage and even when the business went bust it helped me find out a little more about me and inner strength that I never knew I had. So with a runner partner sorted I went to bed fairly confident that things were going to be fine in the morning.
We were staying up by Gare Du Nord, not the finest part of Paris but a really nice, affordable funky hotel. So we got up early, me in my running kit, had breakfast and set out for the underground. Danielle was carrying my post race kit as the plan was to meet up with a few other runners that we had met the night before for a beer after racing. When we arrived near the Arc Du Triomphe the place was buzzing. We were there early, another of my traits as I hate being late, but there was lots of activity as runners we're starting to gather outside the appropriate pen. At the start of these major races your number is allocated on your predicted time so I was in the sub 4 hour pen which included other runners expecting to complete the race somewhere between 3.30 and 4 hours. This prevents the large groups of runners walking down the road with arms interlinked who start at the front of some 5 and 10k's. I suspect it's enthusiasm that drives them to the starting point near the start line but I remember a backlog of running piling up behind a bunch of runners walking the full width of the road at the Edinburgh 10k a number of year's ago.
I waited for my new Welsh pal to arrive popping into the local burger bar to use the facilities (regularly) and couldn't help notice the clouds clearing and the sun beginning to warm the air. This was not good as I was hoping for more Scottish conditions. When he arrived we said goodbye to our partners and entered the pen. There were a couple of pacers at the back of the pen. These guys carry a board with the time they are pacing and groups form behind them of runners aiming for that time.
We decided to do our own thing having worked out what pace was required. The heat continued to build and when the starting gun was fired it was a full on beautiful day. Paris is not a fun runners marathon in that not many race in fancy dress and for some reason there were much fewer women racing than other big races I have done. So the start was pretty straightforward and we got moving along the Champs Élysées which was just an awesome experience.
Once up and running we paced ourselves pretty well passing some of the famous sights of Paris. It's funny but the day after the race Danielle was asking me about the route and I found it difficult to remember some of the sights we saw on the way round. We reached the half way point bang on schedule in 1:58 and I felt strong despite the heat.
The second half started well with the exception of running into and up out of the tunnels by the Seine and up to 32km I was ahead of target. Whilst running I blethered with my Welsh pal and established he was a physio at home. This became invaluable at about 34k when I got a sharp pain in the back of my leg. He got me to do a couple of exercises and we were back running quickly, not running quickly just quickly back on our feet. This utopia lasted 4km until the pain returned but this time it was much worse. My friendly physio went to work but I realised that we didn't have a huge amount of time in the bank and he was possibly going to miss the four hour target so despite his willingness to stay and help I sent him on his way.
I limped on. There is a park towards the end of the race and at one point you can see the runners about a mile ahead returning on the other side of the grass. A few guys took the opportunity to skip the mile and run across the grass to cut out the mile loop. The shouts in French did not take a huge amount of translation as the cheats were howled down. Despite the derision no-one stopped them from re-joining the race and only the cheats, like Lance until his Oprah confession, knew in their hearts they had completed the race unfairly!
By this point it was boiling hot, or relatively given it was April, and people were beginning to struggle. My right leg kept cramping up and the 4 hour pacer went pass me. I tried to latch on but they were going at some rate and were obviously trying to catch up with the schedule as they were going at 8 minute mile pace when I was hanging on for a few minutes. I fell off the back of the group when my leg spasmed.
I past the last mile marker and realised that all I needed to do was put in a six minute mile to do my sub 4 target (no chance!). I put in my best effort but realised it was done and as I turned the final corner I noticed a chap struggling to stand up and staggering along the road. When I asked if he was ok there was nothing in his eyes so I put my arm around his shoulder and we crossed the line together before I dropped him into the first aid station having put his medal round his neck. I'm sure he had no recollection of finishing the race but it made me feel a bit better about missing my target. I had finished in 4:03 - limping, 29 minutes faster than my first marathon but bitterly disappointed with my time.
The top male finisher was Gashaw Melese from Ethiopia in a time of 2:08:03. The top female finisher was Irina Timofeyeva from Russia in a time of 2:27:02. Both amazing times.
Post race I felt a bit deflated but looking at the mad queues to the underground managed to find a bar to grab some food in that was close to the finish. We bumped into some of the people that had been at the pasta party and after a wash in the bar toilet (pretty sure the French were wondering who the strange naked bloke washing in the sink was!!!) we had a couple of beers and some food which seemed to help make things a bit better.
I knew that I would have to go again - a bit like the 4 minute mile barrier that Roger Bannister finally broke through, I had to beat my 4 hour demon to beat.......
The marathon is held in April a couple of weeks after London, if I remember correctly. It's a typically huge event with many thousands of runners taking part. We had decided to take a week off with the race being on the first weekend of our holiday. It's always good to get the strenuous exercise out of the way so that the fine food and wine of Paris can be sampled without the fear of messing up the race strategy.
I met up with a few friends that I knew were racing at a pre-organised pasta party on the Champs-Elysees the night before the race. It was a great meeting up with other racers all with the common goal of finishing in their fastest time. The party included runners who we aiming at 2:30, very speedy and others aiming to beat their own 5 hour barrier. My target was a sub 4, exactly the same as Edinburgh the year before.
The pasta party also gave a great opportunity to meet other runners with the same target. I bumped into a welsh lad who had the same ambition. Our running pasts were very similar and we had the same personal bests for 10k and half marathon so it felt like a good combination. In any distance event your mood, energy levels and confidence varies from high to low therefore running with a partner of similar pace is a good way of helping you through the bad patches. It is unlikely that your bad patches will coincide with your partner and thus you drag each other on when times get tough.
Those that know me will describe me as a glass half full type of person, an optimist and possibly over optimistic. I will always respond positively to a question about how I feel on the basis that I genuinely believe that life is, on the whole, fantastic. I feel at a good stage and even when the business went bust it helped me find out a little more about me and inner strength that I never knew I had. So with a runner partner sorted I went to bed fairly confident that things were going to be fine in the morning.
We were staying up by Gare Du Nord, not the finest part of Paris but a really nice, affordable funky hotel. So we got up early, me in my running kit, had breakfast and set out for the underground. Danielle was carrying my post race kit as the plan was to meet up with a few other runners that we had met the night before for a beer after racing. When we arrived near the Arc Du Triomphe the place was buzzing. We were there early, another of my traits as I hate being late, but there was lots of activity as runners we're starting to gather outside the appropriate pen. At the start of these major races your number is allocated on your predicted time so I was in the sub 4 hour pen which included other runners expecting to complete the race somewhere between 3.30 and 4 hours. This prevents the large groups of runners walking down the road with arms interlinked who start at the front of some 5 and 10k's. I suspect it's enthusiasm that drives them to the starting point near the start line but I remember a backlog of running piling up behind a bunch of runners walking the full width of the road at the Edinburgh 10k a number of year's ago.
I waited for my new Welsh pal to arrive popping into the local burger bar to use the facilities (regularly) and couldn't help notice the clouds clearing and the sun beginning to warm the air. This was not good as I was hoping for more Scottish conditions. When he arrived we said goodbye to our partners and entered the pen. There were a couple of pacers at the back of the pen. These guys carry a board with the time they are pacing and groups form behind them of runners aiming for that time.
We decided to do our own thing having worked out what pace was required. The heat continued to build and when the starting gun was fired it was a full on beautiful day. Paris is not a fun runners marathon in that not many race in fancy dress and for some reason there were much fewer women racing than other big races I have done. So the start was pretty straightforward and we got moving along the Champs Élysées which was just an awesome experience.
Once up and running we paced ourselves pretty well passing some of the famous sights of Paris. It's funny but the day after the race Danielle was asking me about the route and I found it difficult to remember some of the sights we saw on the way round. We reached the half way point bang on schedule in 1:58 and I felt strong despite the heat.
The second half started well with the exception of running into and up out of the tunnels by the Seine and up to 32km I was ahead of target. Whilst running I blethered with my Welsh pal and established he was a physio at home. This became invaluable at about 34k when I got a sharp pain in the back of my leg. He got me to do a couple of exercises and we were back running quickly, not running quickly just quickly back on our feet. This utopia lasted 4km until the pain returned but this time it was much worse. My friendly physio went to work but I realised that we didn't have a huge amount of time in the bank and he was possibly going to miss the four hour target so despite his willingness to stay and help I sent him on his way.
I limped on. There is a park towards the end of the race and at one point you can see the runners about a mile ahead returning on the other side of the grass. A few guys took the opportunity to skip the mile and run across the grass to cut out the mile loop. The shouts in French did not take a huge amount of translation as the cheats were howled down. Despite the derision no-one stopped them from re-joining the race and only the cheats, like Lance until his Oprah confession, knew in their hearts they had completed the race unfairly!
By this point it was boiling hot, or relatively given it was April, and people were beginning to struggle. My right leg kept cramping up and the 4 hour pacer went pass me. I tried to latch on but they were going at some rate and were obviously trying to catch up with the schedule as they were going at 8 minute mile pace when I was hanging on for a few minutes. I fell off the back of the group when my leg spasmed.
I past the last mile marker and realised that all I needed to do was put in a six minute mile to do my sub 4 target (no chance!). I put in my best effort but realised it was done and as I turned the final corner I noticed a chap struggling to stand up and staggering along the road. When I asked if he was ok there was nothing in his eyes so I put my arm around his shoulder and we crossed the line together before I dropped him into the first aid station having put his medal round his neck. I'm sure he had no recollection of finishing the race but it made me feel a bit better about missing my target. I had finished in 4:03 - limping, 29 minutes faster than my first marathon but bitterly disappointed with my time.
The top male finisher was Gashaw Melese from Ethiopia in a time of 2:08:03. The top female finisher was Irina Timofeyeva from Russia in a time of 2:27:02. Both amazing times.
Post race I felt a bit deflated but looking at the mad queues to the underground managed to find a bar to grab some food in that was close to the finish. We bumped into some of the people that had been at the pasta party and after a wash in the bar toilet (pretty sure the French were wondering who the strange naked bloke washing in the sink was!!!) we had a couple of beers and some food which seemed to help make things a bit better.
I knew that I would have to go again - a bit like the 4 minute mile barrier that Roger Bannister finally broke through, I had to beat my 4 hour demon to beat.......
Tuesday 15 January 2013
Feeling alive again!
Well the good news is that the sinusitis has cleared and I feel back to my old self. This is great as I was able to get stuck into work again this week and I feel much better.
I started training again yesterday with a one hour spin session on the bike in the gym. I just mixed it up with a few hills, some seated and some standing followed by some sprints to clear the lactic out of my legs. It felt fantastic to be training again.
Today I went backwards in my plan and did my weekend long run. I covered just under 8 miles in 1.13 - slow and steady but I finished knowing I could carry on easily and that I'm getting stronger again.
The other thig that happened today was my weekly battle with Mr Salter - my scales. We have two sets of scales in the house, the heavier results set and the lighter weighing set. Guess which set I use!!! Anyway it's all relative so I clambered on, remembering the 1600 calories from the Nigella (she's just lovely!) cheesecake I enjoyed on Sunday, and was delighted to see that in the two weeks since starting I've lost 6lb. That would be a huge amount for some of the cyclists from the club but it's a scratch in the surface off this fat bloke! It's going to be a long road but at least the car is started!
I'm still not doing much in the way of speed stuff running but can build that later when I shift a few pounds.
Having decided in 2006 that I wanted to try a triathlon I set off online to find out it. I decided to join Edinburgh Triathletes and armed with a 1980's white Peugeot bike I went down to my first training session. The club met at a swimming pool close to where I lived so I pedalled down quite early and filled with nerves. Meeting any new club can be daunting. Now it was my first time, I didn't know the drill and certainly didn't have the kit. I was a runner, well a plodder who had completed a 2 marathons and my initial enthusiasm was completely burst by the initial meeting with the club.
When I arrived there were 2 lycra clad chaps sat on the kerb and when I enquired if this was Edinburgh Tri group they responded yes, avoided eye contact and went back to chatting together. I gave them the benefit of the doubt that they were shy but as more and more riders arrived I got strange looks and began to feel that this wasn't for me. Obviously a baggy tee shirt, shorts and training shoes was not exactly racing kit but I was a beginner and as I said didn't have a clue.
I was just about to slope off when a voice called my name, I looked round to see the father of one of my daughters friends and he smiled and asked if I was here for the club ride. I pedalled over and explained I had just joined and he welcomed me, took my bike away to do a wee check of it and introduced me to a couple of the lads. He came back having pumped up my tyres, they were very flat (well I was a beginner) and said he would ride with me. He was brilliant and we rode with the slower of the groups. I was told to stay out of the chain gang and ride at the back of group. My pal stayed with me and as he was part of the gang others came up and spoke to me.
We did a loop to Gullane and back into town and I was really chuffed that I managed to keep up. I think all of the running had built my strength and the biking came on quite quickly. During the course of the next week I splashed out and bought some new kit, straps for my pedals and when I met the tri group the following week was welcomed into the group.
Edinburgh tri organised the annual New Year Day race at the Commonwealth Pool and new year 2007 I entered my first triathlon. I was really nervous and hardly slept the night before the race, Hogmanay 2006 was a quiet night and very dull for Danielle as I messed about with race kit. I didn't have a tri suit so wasn't sure what to race in so I took everything. The day was freezing but the race organisers felt the road were safe enough to race.
I decided to leave my kit in the kids pool area as I thought I would throw on my bike/run kit in there before heading out into the cold. This was a genius plan I though. Now I'm couldn't swim really at all. My breast stroke was terrible and now I was faced with 400 metres. The swim is based on swimming up one lane, going under the rope and then down the next lane until you come out the pook at the far side having swum all 8 lanes. I have to confess that I took a few wee brakes on the journey and I eventually crawled out of the pool absolutely shattered. I walked through to the trainig pool, dried off and pulled on my three layers of tops sadly I pulled them on back to front and when I pulled them off I looked to my left to see my number floating off into the training pool. By this time the elites guys were gliding up and down through the pool and I had to shout to get my number rescued from the 4 foot of water.
Time was passing and I eventually managed to put my tops on, pull on my longs. attach my number and set off for my bike. By this time I had a shiny new Trek 1500 with cleats so I ran with the bike out of transition and set off on my bike. As it turned out I was dead last out of the water and started on the bike miles behind the person above me. I had no idea of this at the time which I was good in many ways. The bike course was three times around Arthers Seat. Now we had done this in training.
A few months previously the tri club had set up a time trial round the same course. I was on my Peugeot and sent out second of the 12 riders taking part - I worked out this meant that I was expected to finish 11th. This was all I needed to spur me on and I completed the 3 laps in a good time with no-one passing me. It turned out I was third fastest on the night which came as a surprise to everyone!
So my bike was strong and although my time wasn't fast it was steady enough. I managed to get going on the run and felt I was picking up places. In the end I finished 184th out of the 317 finishers with splits of
Swim 15:23
Bike 45:05
Run 31:50
Total 1:35:45
Not great but I was happy it was over. My love of triathlon was ignited!
I started training again yesterday with a one hour spin session on the bike in the gym. I just mixed it up with a few hills, some seated and some standing followed by some sprints to clear the lactic out of my legs. It felt fantastic to be training again.
Today I went backwards in my plan and did my weekend long run. I covered just under 8 miles in 1.13 - slow and steady but I finished knowing I could carry on easily and that I'm getting stronger again.
The other thig that happened today was my weekly battle with Mr Salter - my scales. We have two sets of scales in the house, the heavier results set and the lighter weighing set. Guess which set I use!!! Anyway it's all relative so I clambered on, remembering the 1600 calories from the Nigella (she's just lovely!) cheesecake I enjoyed on Sunday, and was delighted to see that in the two weeks since starting I've lost 6lb. That would be a huge amount for some of the cyclists from the club but it's a scratch in the surface off this fat bloke! It's going to be a long road but at least the car is started!
I'm still not doing much in the way of speed stuff running but can build that later when I shift a few pounds.
Having decided in 2006 that I wanted to try a triathlon I set off online to find out it. I decided to join Edinburgh Triathletes and armed with a 1980's white Peugeot bike I went down to my first training session. The club met at a swimming pool close to where I lived so I pedalled down quite early and filled with nerves. Meeting any new club can be daunting. Now it was my first time, I didn't know the drill and certainly didn't have the kit. I was a runner, well a plodder who had completed a 2 marathons and my initial enthusiasm was completely burst by the initial meeting with the club.
When I arrived there were 2 lycra clad chaps sat on the kerb and when I enquired if this was Edinburgh Tri group they responded yes, avoided eye contact and went back to chatting together. I gave them the benefit of the doubt that they were shy but as more and more riders arrived I got strange looks and began to feel that this wasn't for me. Obviously a baggy tee shirt, shorts and training shoes was not exactly racing kit but I was a beginner and as I said didn't have a clue.
I was just about to slope off when a voice called my name, I looked round to see the father of one of my daughters friends and he smiled and asked if I was here for the club ride. I pedalled over and explained I had just joined and he welcomed me, took my bike away to do a wee check of it and introduced me to a couple of the lads. He came back having pumped up my tyres, they were very flat (well I was a beginner) and said he would ride with me. He was brilliant and we rode with the slower of the groups. I was told to stay out of the chain gang and ride at the back of group. My pal stayed with me and as he was part of the gang others came up and spoke to me.
We did a loop to Gullane and back into town and I was really chuffed that I managed to keep up. I think all of the running had built my strength and the biking came on quite quickly. During the course of the next week I splashed out and bought some new kit, straps for my pedals and when I met the tri group the following week was welcomed into the group.
Edinburgh tri organised the annual New Year Day race at the Commonwealth Pool and new year 2007 I entered my first triathlon. I was really nervous and hardly slept the night before the race, Hogmanay 2006 was a quiet night and very dull for Danielle as I messed about with race kit. I didn't have a tri suit so wasn't sure what to race in so I took everything. The day was freezing but the race organisers felt the road were safe enough to race.
I decided to leave my kit in the kids pool area as I thought I would throw on my bike/run kit in there before heading out into the cold. This was a genius plan I though. Now I'm couldn't swim really at all. My breast stroke was terrible and now I was faced with 400 metres. The swim is based on swimming up one lane, going under the rope and then down the next lane until you come out the pook at the far side having swum all 8 lanes. I have to confess that I took a few wee brakes on the journey and I eventually crawled out of the pool absolutely shattered. I walked through to the trainig pool, dried off and pulled on my three layers of tops sadly I pulled them on back to front and when I pulled them off I looked to my left to see my number floating off into the training pool. By this time the elites guys were gliding up and down through the pool and I had to shout to get my number rescued from the 4 foot of water.
Time was passing and I eventually managed to put my tops on, pull on my longs. attach my number and set off for my bike. By this time I had a shiny new Trek 1500 with cleats so I ran with the bike out of transition and set off on my bike. As it turned out I was dead last out of the water and started on the bike miles behind the person above me. I had no idea of this at the time which I was good in many ways. The bike course was three times around Arthers Seat. Now we had done this in training.
A few months previously the tri club had set up a time trial round the same course. I was on my Peugeot and sent out second of the 12 riders taking part - I worked out this meant that I was expected to finish 11th. This was all I needed to spur me on and I completed the 3 laps in a good time with no-one passing me. It turned out I was third fastest on the night which came as a surprise to everyone!
So my bike was strong and although my time wasn't fast it was steady enough. I managed to get going on the run and felt I was picking up places. In the end I finished 184th out of the 317 finishers with splits of
Swim 15:23
Bike 45:05
Run 31:50
Total 1:35:45
Not great but I was happy it was over. My love of triathlon was ignited!
Sunday 13 January 2013
We could be heroes! We all need them....
I'm feeling a bit better so hopefully will be back out running tomorrow........
Today we celebrated my daughter, Rebecca's birthday - she turned 21 yesterday and she has made Danielle and I very proud. The whole family came out apart from my mum who wasn't well enough which was a huge disappointment and shame for her as I'm sure she would have enjoyed the time with the family.
I was thinking tonight after everyone had gone home that we all have people that we respect, look up to in life and want to be like. I decided at the end of the sporting year of 2012 to try and do another Ironman. To do an ironman is a massive commitment in terms of training, time and effort but when you consider what my father went through it seems nothing and although i've never told him, he is my hero.
Dad joined the RAF when he turned 18 in 1940. He had decided that conscription wasn't the way forward and if he joined up he would have some choice about what he would do. Dad was born in north of Scotland in 1922. When he joined the RAF he was detailed into the radar team and set about learning his new job. Basically Dad's role was to watch the radar and report back what planes were in the air so that appropriate defences could be put in place.
When Britain crossed the Channel on D Day Dad followed a day behind and must have seen a dreadful scene landing on Gold Beach after the initial assault. He followed behind the battle front receiving messages from the Enigma machines in Bletchley Park asking for confirmation of what bombers were coming and where they were heading. The battle raged around Dad, set up in his cardboard improvised protection, and occasionally he would have to scramble back from behind enemy lines. Nights were spend under canvas or trucks as the front line moved up through France, Belgium and into Holland. It was an amazing story that I haven't shared adequately but no doubt shaped the man that became a successful Primary Headmaster and Primary Schools Advisor.
Dad was in London on VE Day and VJ Day totally by chance and ended up having a cup of tea with a few pals and enjoying a good blether. He 's not the party type!
My father often worries for me about the challenge of Ironman and the stresses on the body that it creates but I look at him and see a man who has been through so much more than I could ever take on. A swim, bike and run in comparison to the responsibility and fear factor of watching over a nation from a site just behind the fighting front makes what I do look easy.
He is my hero, the person I aspire to be like and at 91 a stronger and better man than I will ever be. I feel very fortunate that he's my dad and with me approaching 50 he is still around to inspire me and the rest of the family.
Sadly the reason that he couldn't fly was his flat feet and poor eyesight both of which he shared with me!
We all need people to look up to and respect. I'm just so lucky that I have one so close to home!
Today we celebrated my daughter, Rebecca's birthday - she turned 21 yesterday and she has made Danielle and I very proud. The whole family came out apart from my mum who wasn't well enough which was a huge disappointment and shame for her as I'm sure she would have enjoyed the time with the family.
I was thinking tonight after everyone had gone home that we all have people that we respect, look up to in life and want to be like. I decided at the end of the sporting year of 2012 to try and do another Ironman. To do an ironman is a massive commitment in terms of training, time and effort but when you consider what my father went through it seems nothing and although i've never told him, he is my hero.
Dad joined the RAF when he turned 18 in 1940. He had decided that conscription wasn't the way forward and if he joined up he would have some choice about what he would do. Dad was born in north of Scotland in 1922. When he joined the RAF he was detailed into the radar team and set about learning his new job. Basically Dad's role was to watch the radar and report back what planes were in the air so that appropriate defences could be put in place.
When Britain crossed the Channel on D Day Dad followed a day behind and must have seen a dreadful scene landing on Gold Beach after the initial assault. He followed behind the battle front receiving messages from the Enigma machines in Bletchley Park asking for confirmation of what bombers were coming and where they were heading. The battle raged around Dad, set up in his cardboard improvised protection, and occasionally he would have to scramble back from behind enemy lines. Nights were spend under canvas or trucks as the front line moved up through France, Belgium and into Holland. It was an amazing story that I haven't shared adequately but no doubt shaped the man that became a successful Primary Headmaster and Primary Schools Advisor.
Dad was in London on VE Day and VJ Day totally by chance and ended up having a cup of tea with a few pals and enjoying a good blether. He 's not the party type!
My father often worries for me about the challenge of Ironman and the stresses on the body that it creates but I look at him and see a man who has been through so much more than I could ever take on. A swim, bike and run in comparison to the responsibility and fear factor of watching over a nation from a site just behind the fighting front makes what I do look easy.
He is my hero, the person I aspire to be like and at 91 a stronger and better man than I will ever be. I feel very fortunate that he's my dad and with me approaching 50 he is still around to inspire me and the rest of the family.
Sadly the reason that he couldn't fly was his flat feet and poor eyesight both of which he shared with me!
We all need people to look up to and respect. I'm just so lucky that I have one so close to home!
Friday 11 January 2013
Swims like a stone.....
The last few days have been a bit depressing. After a 40 minute spin on Wednesday the sinusitis took hold and I've been feeling pretty dire since. This has left me frustrated as I've not been ill for ages. I'm not really ill as I can work bit I feel tired and the whole of my face is sore.
Rest is important in any training plan but when it's enforced and unplanned it is unwelcome. I have in the past been guilty of overtraining and in doing this have learned how to build my training slowly and without injury.
So no swimming, biking or running to report. I could blog what I've been working on for the last few days but that would be incredibly dull so instead maybe I should blog about swimming. It is without doubt my least favorite of the disciplines!
When I got my place for Ironman Austria in Christmas 2006 I had one minor problem. I couldn't swim. Well that's a small lie, I could swim but could only manage a breadth of breast stroke and that was a struggle. When on a family holiday in the summer of 2006 my kids would laugh at me as they flew past me in the pool I absolutely knew I wasn't a swimmer.
Suddenly having said yes to a pal in London who had offered to transfer his place for the Ironman I suddenly realised I had to swim 2.4 miles - I tried to work out how many lengths of the pool that was and gave up when the number soared over 150. I couldn't swim one!
So I made a few enquiries. How many people swim an ironman breast stroke I put out on a triathlon website..... The response was a tad negative and I wasn't given any chance of completing the race. But I don't give up anything so asked about to find a swim teacher. I was recommended to speak to an experienced Edinburgh Triathlete called Scott Balfour. Scott is an amazing man, a gifted athlete and a triathlon giant. I emailed Scott and he kindly took me on. Lessons started in January 2007.
Scott took me back to basics initially learning how to push off from the wall before moving on through different exercises. I was the worst of the various students by some distance and struggled with form and stroke.
The months began to pass and I still hadn't actually managed to swim. I had many 25 metre lengths single arm but never put it into a single swim stroke. By Easter I still couldn't manage a length, I was the ultimate slow learner but I practiced hard all of the drills that Scott taught me. I didn't have the courage to tell Scott I was doing an Ironman in the summer as I was convinced he would just laugh at me.
The day I managed a full length I was so excited I almost choked! I was bizarrely emotional even though I could only breathe on one side and only had 12 weeks left to race day. I think the drills had built a lot of arm strength and when I started being able to swim one length at a time I was dead chuffed. Next challenge was being able to swim 2 lengths. It didn't take long and once I managed two lengths I began to build up the number of 50 metre swims I could do. I had made a decision that if I couldn 't swim 1900 metres non stop by the start of June I would give up.
So one day in May I decided to continue on and just swim beyond my 50 metre 2 length routine. I jumped into the commonwealth pool and got started. After one 50 metre length I usually stopped, this time there was no stopping and I carried on. I managed 1km - I danced out of the pool excited by my achievement. Maybe I could do this.......
The next few weeks were spent building distance. I didn't do any drills just banged out length after length in the pool desperately trying to build distance. The problem that I had was every time I got to 2,500 metres I would start cramping up. I had another problem which sounds weird but I was a bit scared of the water. As a kid I hadn't been able to swim and hated going out of my depth. The only reason I learned to swim when I was 18 was because of a certain girl who stayed in the same accommodation and she liked to swim so I secretly learned so I could go with her! It worked!
I have always been scared of water particularly when I can't see the bottom. I had completely put out of my head the fact a lake is a deep bit of water and I definetly wouldn't be able to see the bottom. A friend of mine suggested the we go out open water swimming. It was June, felt like winter and I set off for my first open water swim. I was terrified.
Before my first open water experience I had to buy a wetsuit. The Tri Shop in Edinburgh is excellent and the advice is excellent. They gave me a wetsuit and 2 plastic bags to go and try on the wetsuit. You put the bags over your feet to protect the suits when trying them on. Now the wetsuit needs to be snug and I wrestled with the first one they gave me. I reckon they give they give you a size too small to start with just to keep the spirits of the staff up as you waddle out of the changing area with an undersized suit looking like a complete pratt. I was passed the larger size and set about squeezing into it. I still couldn't zip it up but a kind and very strong member of staff pushed and pulled and eventually I was wet suited up. Not pretty but wetsuit selected I was ready for the open water.
Open water sounds exciting and almost romantic. I imagined me gliding through the lapping clear water of a beautiful loch. I met my pal at the Mussleburgh Lagoons. Not quite what I had imagined but an important lesson was about to be learned. I looked acrosss the lagoon and panicked - could I swim that far? Would I make it? My friend helped me on with my suit and we set off. Head down I swam directly across the water. When I say directly, I was directly heading n the wrong direction. Ah this is what they mean by sighting. You are supposed to check every 6 or so strokes that you are still aiming at the same point that you have selected as your target. I had picked a tree on a hill behind my turning point. I forgot to sight and by the time I checked I was 30 metres off to my right and miles out. Why wasn't there a white line at the bottom of the lagoon.
So after much zig zagging I made the turn and my pal suggested that I try and stay behind them - that was difficult too but it was easier to follow feet than sight so I decided that would be my race tactic. Having done the open water once I decided that was it. I could do it what was the issue and I set off back to the pool to finish my swim training.
I was as ready as I was gong to be and I set off to Austria having never swum the 3,800 metres that made up the Ironman swim. Foolish, stupid and uncertain of open water with no idea if I would finish my fear built by the day. More of the race day later but suffice to say don't let not being able to swim put you off triathlon!
Rest is important in any training plan but when it's enforced and unplanned it is unwelcome. I have in the past been guilty of overtraining and in doing this have learned how to build my training slowly and without injury.
So no swimming, biking or running to report. I could blog what I've been working on for the last few days but that would be incredibly dull so instead maybe I should blog about swimming. It is without doubt my least favorite of the disciplines!
When I got my place for Ironman Austria in Christmas 2006 I had one minor problem. I couldn't swim. Well that's a small lie, I could swim but could only manage a breadth of breast stroke and that was a struggle. When on a family holiday in the summer of 2006 my kids would laugh at me as they flew past me in the pool I absolutely knew I wasn't a swimmer.
Suddenly having said yes to a pal in London who had offered to transfer his place for the Ironman I suddenly realised I had to swim 2.4 miles - I tried to work out how many lengths of the pool that was and gave up when the number soared over 150. I couldn't swim one!
So I made a few enquiries. How many people swim an ironman breast stroke I put out on a triathlon website..... The response was a tad negative and I wasn't given any chance of completing the race. But I don't give up anything so asked about to find a swim teacher. I was recommended to speak to an experienced Edinburgh Triathlete called Scott Balfour. Scott is an amazing man, a gifted athlete and a triathlon giant. I emailed Scott and he kindly took me on. Lessons started in January 2007.
Scott took me back to basics initially learning how to push off from the wall before moving on through different exercises. I was the worst of the various students by some distance and struggled with form and stroke.
The months began to pass and I still hadn't actually managed to swim. I had many 25 metre lengths single arm but never put it into a single swim stroke. By Easter I still couldn't manage a length, I was the ultimate slow learner but I practiced hard all of the drills that Scott taught me. I didn't have the courage to tell Scott I was doing an Ironman in the summer as I was convinced he would just laugh at me.
The day I managed a full length I was so excited I almost choked! I was bizarrely emotional even though I could only breathe on one side and only had 12 weeks left to race day. I think the drills had built a lot of arm strength and when I started being able to swim one length at a time I was dead chuffed. Next challenge was being able to swim 2 lengths. It didn't take long and once I managed two lengths I began to build up the number of 50 metre swims I could do. I had made a decision that if I couldn 't swim 1900 metres non stop by the start of June I would give up.
So one day in May I decided to continue on and just swim beyond my 50 metre 2 length routine. I jumped into the commonwealth pool and got started. After one 50 metre length I usually stopped, this time there was no stopping and I carried on. I managed 1km - I danced out of the pool excited by my achievement. Maybe I could do this.......
The next few weeks were spent building distance. I didn't do any drills just banged out length after length in the pool desperately trying to build distance. The problem that I had was every time I got to 2,500 metres I would start cramping up. I had another problem which sounds weird but I was a bit scared of the water. As a kid I hadn't been able to swim and hated going out of my depth. The only reason I learned to swim when I was 18 was because of a certain girl who stayed in the same accommodation and she liked to swim so I secretly learned so I could go with her! It worked!
I have always been scared of water particularly when I can't see the bottom. I had completely put out of my head the fact a lake is a deep bit of water and I definetly wouldn't be able to see the bottom. A friend of mine suggested the we go out open water swimming. It was June, felt like winter and I set off for my first open water swim. I was terrified.
Before my first open water experience I had to buy a wetsuit. The Tri Shop in Edinburgh is excellent and the advice is excellent. They gave me a wetsuit and 2 plastic bags to go and try on the wetsuit. You put the bags over your feet to protect the suits when trying them on. Now the wetsuit needs to be snug and I wrestled with the first one they gave me. I reckon they give they give you a size too small to start with just to keep the spirits of the staff up as you waddle out of the changing area with an undersized suit looking like a complete pratt. I was passed the larger size and set about squeezing into it. I still couldn't zip it up but a kind and very strong member of staff pushed and pulled and eventually I was wet suited up. Not pretty but wetsuit selected I was ready for the open water.
Open water sounds exciting and almost romantic. I imagined me gliding through the lapping clear water of a beautiful loch. I met my pal at the Mussleburgh Lagoons. Not quite what I had imagined but an important lesson was about to be learned. I looked acrosss the lagoon and panicked - could I swim that far? Would I make it? My friend helped me on with my suit and we set off. Head down I swam directly across the water. When I say directly, I was directly heading n the wrong direction. Ah this is what they mean by sighting. You are supposed to check every 6 or so strokes that you are still aiming at the same point that you have selected as your target. I had picked a tree on a hill behind my turning point. I forgot to sight and by the time I checked I was 30 metres off to my right and miles out. Why wasn't there a white line at the bottom of the lagoon.
So after much zig zagging I made the turn and my pal suggested that I try and stay behind them - that was difficult too but it was easier to follow feet than sight so I decided that would be my race tactic. Having done the open water once I decided that was it. I could do it what was the issue and I set off back to the pool to finish my swim training.
I was as ready as I was gong to be and I set off to Austria having never swum the 3,800 metres that made up the Ironman swim. Foolish, stupid and uncertain of open water with no idea if I would finish my fear built by the day. More of the race day later but suffice to say don't let not being able to swim put you off triathlon!
Tuesday 8 January 2013
Climb every mountain.....
Danielle was watching a documentary about the Von Trapp family on Sky+ at the weekend and inspired by their Alpine skipping through the flower filled fields I decided today was the day to start hill training.
I'm still trying to keep my heart rate under 140 in training to focus on fat burning. It's an odd term fat burning. It's not like we put a flame to the flab but it must be because of the heat created whilst training but to be honest I have no idea. So if you know the technical fizz (physiology) stuff then please post a response to inform this uneducated soul.
I started the day feeling a bit clearer so headed down to the gym, aka the front room, and completed 30 minutes of light weights. I suppose when people think of Ironman they think of muscle clad giants in tight fitting lycra not podgy 50 year old blokes who could scare an alien invasion if clad in lycra. I spend most of the time doing upper body stuff using my big exercise ball as a bench for sit ups and bench presses. It's good because it works the core whilst working off the moobs!!
That left me feeling pretty fresh, so as it was a run day I decided to introduce the Von Trapps to my work out. Outside the village is a superb hill for training and having climbed it on the bike on a good number of occasions re-named it the grand sounding Col Du Carnock. So today, I set from the house and ran up to Oakley, down onto the bike track and back up to the Carnock turn off. Once you turn back over the bike path you follow the road to the 40mph posts that mark the start of the hill climb training. I started with a short session which I plan to build week by week increasing the effort by 10% every week. So today I ran as fast as I could from the speed limit posts to the first tree, approximately 25% of the way up the hill jogging back down to the post to recover.
The second effort saw me sprint (massive exaggeration) to the third tree on the right which was approximately 50% of the way up the hill followed by a jog to the bottom. By this time the effort was beginning to take its toll but once you start something you can't give up so the third effort took me 75% of the way up the hill. The pace had dropped from the first effort and the breathing was heavy but it was done so I recovered on the jog down to the post for the final push.
The last of the climbs was less sprinting and more Spotty Dog. Those of a certain vintage may remember the Woodentops and the stiff legged Spotty Dog character, if cardboard cut out cartoon dogs can be called characters! The legs were wooden, the spring was out of the step but with a final Von Trapp like skip I'd completed the set. I felt vaguely satisfied until I considered how easy the set had been in the past even on the second run.
A few of the Dunfermline CC guys are biking tomorrow which makes me very envious as the weather is set cold and fair I believe but I have a conference call and a number of meetings. My training will have to wait until the evening.
I re-joined Carnegie Harriers again today having let my mebership slip. It's good to support the local clubs and although I'm not a regular attender I still like the contact with local runners and cyclists.
I may even risk a swim tomorrow having not been swimming since Lake Placid so that could be an interesting session. Can an Ironman have a secret fear of water - sure not!!
I'm still trying to keep my heart rate under 140 in training to focus on fat burning. It's an odd term fat burning. It's not like we put a flame to the flab but it must be because of the heat created whilst training but to be honest I have no idea. So if you know the technical fizz (physiology) stuff then please post a response to inform this uneducated soul.
I started the day feeling a bit clearer so headed down to the gym, aka the front room, and completed 30 minutes of light weights. I suppose when people think of Ironman they think of muscle clad giants in tight fitting lycra not podgy 50 year old blokes who could scare an alien invasion if clad in lycra. I spend most of the time doing upper body stuff using my big exercise ball as a bench for sit ups and bench presses. It's good because it works the core whilst working off the moobs!!
That left me feeling pretty fresh, so as it was a run day I decided to introduce the Von Trapps to my work out. Outside the village is a superb hill for training and having climbed it on the bike on a good number of occasions re-named it the grand sounding Col Du Carnock. So today, I set from the house and ran up to Oakley, down onto the bike track and back up to the Carnock turn off. Once you turn back over the bike path you follow the road to the 40mph posts that mark the start of the hill climb training. I started with a short session which I plan to build week by week increasing the effort by 10% every week. So today I ran as fast as I could from the speed limit posts to the first tree, approximately 25% of the way up the hill jogging back down to the post to recover.
The second effort saw me sprint (massive exaggeration) to the third tree on the right which was approximately 50% of the way up the hill followed by a jog to the bottom. By this time the effort was beginning to take its toll but once you start something you can't give up so the third effort took me 75% of the way up the hill. The pace had dropped from the first effort and the breathing was heavy but it was done so I recovered on the jog down to the post for the final push.
The last of the climbs was less sprinting and more Spotty Dog. Those of a certain vintage may remember the Woodentops and the stiff legged Spotty Dog character, if cardboard cut out cartoon dogs can be called characters! The legs were wooden, the spring was out of the step but with a final Von Trapp like skip I'd completed the set. I felt vaguely satisfied until I considered how easy the set had been in the past even on the second run.
A few of the Dunfermline CC guys are biking tomorrow which makes me very envious as the weather is set cold and fair I believe but I have a conference call and a number of meetings. My training will have to wait until the evening.
I re-joined Carnegie Harriers again today having let my mebership slip. It's good to support the local clubs and although I'm not a regular attender I still like the contact with local runners and cyclists.
I may even risk a swim tomorrow having not been swimming since Lake Placid so that could be an interesting session. Can an Ironman have a secret fear of water - sure not!!
Monday 7 January 2013
In a spin......
Monday so it must be a spinning day. As I think I mentioned I'm fortunate to have a proper gym spin bike and treadmill. These were bought a few years ago at great expense on the basis we could dump our gym membership. It turned out to be a fantastic investment and both machines have more than paid themselves back.
The plan was to get up early to start the day with a circuit session and return to the gym this evening for a spin set. I'm not sure whether spinning at home or heading into Dunfermline to do the New Row repetitive climb set with the bike club is better for me but given I'm not completely at the back of the pack on my spin bike I'll work on that for now.
I awoke with a thumping headache and felt miserable. As I said yesterday, I have been suffering from sinusitis which is entirely self inflicted. I have been prone to sinusitis in the winter and hay fever in the summer. The reason that it's self inflicted is that I have the medicine to sort it out if i would just remember to take the stuff. Anyway after a nasal spray and a couple of paracetemol I felt a bit better. I walked the dog but decided against the circuit session which can wait until tomorrow and set off to start work after the Christmas recess.
Work is situated in a log cabin in the garden and to be fair the work life balance that I have is the envy of many. Not that it doesn't get stressful from time to time but having the flexibility to bike or run at lunchtime is of massive value to me. I stuck my triathlon wall chart up in the office and started filling it out with the races I've entered. That took all of 2 minutes as I've only entered a couple to date. I'll keep a record of my training plan on the wall along with my weight to remind me of what I have done later in the year when I will convince myself that I haven't done enough!
So after work tonight I headed into the gym and spent an hour on my spin bike. As I'm focussed on weight loss at the moment the key was keeping my heart rate down and in the appropriate zone. I'm never very sure about this method but I'm giving it a shot and as I lost 4lb last week something is working. The spin session was slightly disturbed by Sky Sports announcing that Terry Butcher, the manager of my team Inverness Caledonian Thistle, is being hunted by the Barnsley Board for their vacant Managers position. Terry has done an awesome job and I only hope the bigman stays to finish off what has been a fine season so far.
Anyway, I quite enjoy spinning. During the period I was training for IM New Zealand which was held in March 2009 the winter here was pretty severe - lots of frozen roads and snow. This meant getting outside to run or bike was tricky. At the time I was a member of Bannatynes in Dunfermline and they were kind enough to let me use the spin studio to train when there wasn't classes on. If you every want to be mind numbingly board spend 4 hours in a spin studio. I worked out how to connect my iPod into the sound system and I got a few strange looks from the local gym bunnies when they ventured into the studio to hear New Country music blasting out. It's not everyone's taste but it worked for me!!
I have attempted to post a video of me finishing IM New Zealand when the commentator says that he met me at the Carbo Dinner the night before the race and that I hadn't been able to train due to ice and snow in Scotland. It was absolutely bang on except for the fact I never met him!!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OpazerfLFg8
I'll come back to the full story about IM New Zealand later in the Blog because it was an adventure in itself!
The plan was to get up early to start the day with a circuit session and return to the gym this evening for a spin set. I'm not sure whether spinning at home or heading into Dunfermline to do the New Row repetitive climb set with the bike club is better for me but given I'm not completely at the back of the pack on my spin bike I'll work on that for now.
I awoke with a thumping headache and felt miserable. As I said yesterday, I have been suffering from sinusitis which is entirely self inflicted. I have been prone to sinusitis in the winter and hay fever in the summer. The reason that it's self inflicted is that I have the medicine to sort it out if i would just remember to take the stuff. Anyway after a nasal spray and a couple of paracetemol I felt a bit better. I walked the dog but decided against the circuit session which can wait until tomorrow and set off to start work after the Christmas recess.
Work is situated in a log cabin in the garden and to be fair the work life balance that I have is the envy of many. Not that it doesn't get stressful from time to time but having the flexibility to bike or run at lunchtime is of massive value to me. I stuck my triathlon wall chart up in the office and started filling it out with the races I've entered. That took all of 2 minutes as I've only entered a couple to date. I'll keep a record of my training plan on the wall along with my weight to remind me of what I have done later in the year when I will convince myself that I haven't done enough!
So after work tonight I headed into the gym and spent an hour on my spin bike. As I'm focussed on weight loss at the moment the key was keeping my heart rate down and in the appropriate zone. I'm never very sure about this method but I'm giving it a shot and as I lost 4lb last week something is working. The spin session was slightly disturbed by Sky Sports announcing that Terry Butcher, the manager of my team Inverness Caledonian Thistle, is being hunted by the Barnsley Board for their vacant Managers position. Terry has done an awesome job and I only hope the bigman stays to finish off what has been a fine season so far.
Anyway, I quite enjoy spinning. During the period I was training for IM New Zealand which was held in March 2009 the winter here was pretty severe - lots of frozen roads and snow. This meant getting outside to run or bike was tricky. At the time I was a member of Bannatynes in Dunfermline and they were kind enough to let me use the spin studio to train when there wasn't classes on. If you every want to be mind numbingly board spend 4 hours in a spin studio. I worked out how to connect my iPod into the sound system and I got a few strange looks from the local gym bunnies when they ventured into the studio to hear New Country music blasting out. It's not everyone's taste but it worked for me!!
I have attempted to post a video of me finishing IM New Zealand when the commentator says that he met me at the Carbo Dinner the night before the race and that I hadn't been able to train due to ice and snow in Scotland. It was absolutely bang on except for the fact I never met him!!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OpazerfLFg8
I'll come back to the full story about IM New Zealand later in the Blog because it was an adventure in itself!
Sunday 6 January 2013
Run Fat Boy Run
I like to run on Sunday mornings. There is a certain pre-church peace with few folk out on the roads and stress free drivers going about their business without the weekday morning hassles.
It was warm again this morning which meant that I could venture out in shorts! I suppose since I came back to running first in 2004 it has always been my favorite of the 3 disciplines of triathlon (although I have grown to love cycling). Running clears the head and I've used it to sort out business and other issues that I'm wrestling with. Whenever I'm uncertain about things a run will help me rationalise the problem and invariably come back with a solution.
When I started training for the Edinburgh Marathon I was clueless. I didn't run with a club just went out and did the same routine as the day before. It was therefore with a sense of interest I opened my Christmas present from Danielle to find a book about marathon running by Sam Murphy. I gobbled, no Christmas pun intended, it up and soon started following one of the marathon training plans. This was exactly what I needed. I'm good with plans and especially good at following them. If it says do a hill session on a Tuesday, I do a hill session on a Tuesday.
Now I had a plan I started to make progress and weight started to drop off. Soon my 17.5 inch shirts were too big and baggy training trousers too big. Not only did I ned to buy work clothes I needed new training kit. The washing machine couldn't keep up with my new addiction and as part of my Christmas present I was to go and buy some new training shoes. I knew nothing of pronation or cushioning and presented with an amazing array of options I started looking at colour, an obviously important issue. It seemed that the assistant in the sports shop shared my interest in colour, expensive shoes but knew little about why the various shoes were different.
This concerned me because I decided that there must be a reason brands like Mizuno and Nike produced so many different types of shoes. So after lurking about outside the running shop in Edinburgh called Run and Become I eventually plucked up the courage to go in. In my head I thought they would think that here was another middle aged fat bloke dealing with his New Year resolution to start running and would therefore be not taken seriously. How wrong was I!
The people in the shop knew exactly what they were looking for and after watching me walking up and down the shop recommended a pair of ACICS 2010s. The price made me choke as I had been expecting an investment of £35 and to pay more than twice that seemed a tad over the top but Danielle insisted and I walked out of the shop with my shoes boxed up and looking splendid. A slight disappointment was that they were yellow and not the striking red ones in the window.
As we left the shop Danielle suggested in a positive reinforcement sort of way that I'd better use them!! I've stuck with the brand and still run in the latest version of the same shoe.
As I said I stuck to the plan and run every step with the aim to run a sub-four marathon. I had no basis for this but felt I had it in me. My training went well and I followed the plan with only the odd day missed due to illness.
So when it came to race day I felt fit and ready. The weight had come down to just under 15 stone and I felt fantastic as I set off for the start line. The start of any marathon is full of nervous energy. Pale faces contrasted by black bin bags worn in a vain attempt to keep warm. At least it was dry which was soon to become a blessing in disguise. Three trips to the portaloo's didn't sort out my grumbly stomach and as the starting gun approached I felt that at some point it would catch up with me! I bumped into a pal at the start which was remarkable given the number of starters. Mark Brough was starting his second marathon and his presence calmed my nerves as we caught up on the news since we had last spoken many years before.
I decided to see if I could stick with Mark, a massive mistake as he was running a faster schedule and aiming for 3.30 with my plan to run 4 hour pace. So with an almighty bang the 2005 Edinburgh Marathon started. I started well and felt strong. The elation of taking part in such a big race took over and the miles passed quickly. The route took us down to Cramond at which point my grumbly stomach began to play tunes. There were queues at the portaloos but I knew there was a set of permanent toilets at the Cramond turn and this became my target. Almost 13 miles in and I was still hanging on to Mark but I knew a quick visit to loos was required so I bade my farewell, wished him luck and headed off. The toilets were deserted and I felt great after a quick pit stop.
I quickly picked up the pace and got moving again. I had carried my phone with an earpiece in and when it rang I felt so well I answered. It was Danielle, I told here I was at 14 miles and feeling good. This took her by surprise as I wasn't supposed to be at 14 miles. Anyway buoyed by the call I ploughed on with the target of seeing my kids in 3 or 4 miles time. Sadly I was going too fast and they didn't make the rendezvous point until after I had passed. The disappointment was massive but it wasn't their fault as I was ahead of schedule.
At 18 miles I heard a shout from the crowd and immediately recognised Andrew and Pauline cheering me on. I stopped briefly, said hello and carried on in tears at the joy of seeing them. (I'm not the weepy sort so tiredness was obviously a factor) The route took us around Ocean Terminal Shopping Centre and as soon as I turned the corner to head towards Mussleburgh I knew I had a problem. I had completed 19 miles in 2.25 and only had 7 miles to go.
I had hit the wall, a bit early but the fast pace finally caught up with me and my legs started to cramp up. The drink they were giving out was lucozade which I gulped down but it was all I could do to walk. I hobbled along making very slow progress and stopping every few steps to stretch out my cramping limbs. I had to finish. I couldn't let down the people that had supported me to make the start line or myself. Every step was painful. I was encouraged by all of the runners passing me but I could not get going and felt terrible. It took me over 2 hours to reach the finishing straight but I did finish in 4.32. This was only 32 minutes more than my original target but felt like a lifetime.
I had learned a painful lesson that you only race yourself and you can only run your own race. I had mistakenly started way too fast and paid a huge price.
I was hugely proud of my first marathon medal and held onto it tightly as I met Danielle just outside the finish zone. I was exhausted and elated and headed home to share the news with family and friends.
Today's run was a mere 8 miles in comparison completed in 1 hour and 6 minutes. I felt better running today although I'm still fighting off sinusitis. After saying I wouldn't weigh myself for a month I lasted until today and celebrated losing 4lbs on reading the gauge.
So I feel I'm off to a good start both with my training and food intake. Long may it continue!
It was warm again this morning which meant that I could venture out in shorts! I suppose since I came back to running first in 2004 it has always been my favorite of the 3 disciplines of triathlon (although I have grown to love cycling). Running clears the head and I've used it to sort out business and other issues that I'm wrestling with. Whenever I'm uncertain about things a run will help me rationalise the problem and invariably come back with a solution.
When I started training for the Edinburgh Marathon I was clueless. I didn't run with a club just went out and did the same routine as the day before. It was therefore with a sense of interest I opened my Christmas present from Danielle to find a book about marathon running by Sam Murphy. I gobbled, no Christmas pun intended, it up and soon started following one of the marathon training plans. This was exactly what I needed. I'm good with plans and especially good at following them. If it says do a hill session on a Tuesday, I do a hill session on a Tuesday.
Now I had a plan I started to make progress and weight started to drop off. Soon my 17.5 inch shirts were too big and baggy training trousers too big. Not only did I ned to buy work clothes I needed new training kit. The washing machine couldn't keep up with my new addiction and as part of my Christmas present I was to go and buy some new training shoes. I knew nothing of pronation or cushioning and presented with an amazing array of options I started looking at colour, an obviously important issue. It seemed that the assistant in the sports shop shared my interest in colour, expensive shoes but knew little about why the various shoes were different.
This concerned me because I decided that there must be a reason brands like Mizuno and Nike produced so many different types of shoes. So after lurking about outside the running shop in Edinburgh called Run and Become I eventually plucked up the courage to go in. In my head I thought they would think that here was another middle aged fat bloke dealing with his New Year resolution to start running and would therefore be not taken seriously. How wrong was I!
The people in the shop knew exactly what they were looking for and after watching me walking up and down the shop recommended a pair of ACICS 2010s. The price made me choke as I had been expecting an investment of £35 and to pay more than twice that seemed a tad over the top but Danielle insisted and I walked out of the shop with my shoes boxed up and looking splendid. A slight disappointment was that they were yellow and not the striking red ones in the window.
As we left the shop Danielle suggested in a positive reinforcement sort of way that I'd better use them!! I've stuck with the brand and still run in the latest version of the same shoe.
As I said I stuck to the plan and run every step with the aim to run a sub-four marathon. I had no basis for this but felt I had it in me. My training went well and I followed the plan with only the odd day missed due to illness.
So when it came to race day I felt fit and ready. The weight had come down to just under 15 stone and I felt fantastic as I set off for the start line. The start of any marathon is full of nervous energy. Pale faces contrasted by black bin bags worn in a vain attempt to keep warm. At least it was dry which was soon to become a blessing in disguise. Three trips to the portaloo's didn't sort out my grumbly stomach and as the starting gun approached I felt that at some point it would catch up with me! I bumped into a pal at the start which was remarkable given the number of starters. Mark Brough was starting his second marathon and his presence calmed my nerves as we caught up on the news since we had last spoken many years before.
I decided to see if I could stick with Mark, a massive mistake as he was running a faster schedule and aiming for 3.30 with my plan to run 4 hour pace. So with an almighty bang the 2005 Edinburgh Marathon started. I started well and felt strong. The elation of taking part in such a big race took over and the miles passed quickly. The route took us down to Cramond at which point my grumbly stomach began to play tunes. There were queues at the portaloos but I knew there was a set of permanent toilets at the Cramond turn and this became my target. Almost 13 miles in and I was still hanging on to Mark but I knew a quick visit to loos was required so I bade my farewell, wished him luck and headed off. The toilets were deserted and I felt great after a quick pit stop.
I quickly picked up the pace and got moving again. I had carried my phone with an earpiece in and when it rang I felt so well I answered. It was Danielle, I told here I was at 14 miles and feeling good. This took her by surprise as I wasn't supposed to be at 14 miles. Anyway buoyed by the call I ploughed on with the target of seeing my kids in 3 or 4 miles time. Sadly I was going too fast and they didn't make the rendezvous point until after I had passed. The disappointment was massive but it wasn't their fault as I was ahead of schedule.
At 18 miles I heard a shout from the crowd and immediately recognised Andrew and Pauline cheering me on. I stopped briefly, said hello and carried on in tears at the joy of seeing them. (I'm not the weepy sort so tiredness was obviously a factor) The route took us around Ocean Terminal Shopping Centre and as soon as I turned the corner to head towards Mussleburgh I knew I had a problem. I had completed 19 miles in 2.25 and only had 7 miles to go.
I had hit the wall, a bit early but the fast pace finally caught up with me and my legs started to cramp up. The drink they were giving out was lucozade which I gulped down but it was all I could do to walk. I hobbled along making very slow progress and stopping every few steps to stretch out my cramping limbs. I had to finish. I couldn't let down the people that had supported me to make the start line or myself. Every step was painful. I was encouraged by all of the runners passing me but I could not get going and felt terrible. It took me over 2 hours to reach the finishing straight but I did finish in 4.32. This was only 32 minutes more than my original target but felt like a lifetime.
I had learned a painful lesson that you only race yourself and you can only run your own race. I had mistakenly started way too fast and paid a huge price.
I was hugely proud of my first marathon medal and held onto it tightly as I met Danielle just outside the finish zone. I was exhausted and elated and headed home to share the news with family and friends.
Today's run was a mere 8 miles in comparison completed in 1 hour and 6 minutes. I felt better running today although I'm still fighting off sinusitis. After saying I wouldn't weigh myself for a month I lasted until today and celebrated losing 4lbs on reading the gauge.
So I feel I'm off to a good start both with my training and food intake. Long may it continue!
Saturday 5 January 2013
Is it summer or winter - I'm confused!
It was a strange old day weather wise. The temperature was sitting somewhere about 9 degrees and I'm pretty convinced the only difference between summer and winter in Scotland is the length of the days and about 7 degrees. It was a perfect day today. We've had much colder starts in May and June!!
I really enjoyed biking today with Derek, the Bigman who should be re-named The Power! Man he was strong today and decided to push me pretty hard, I think to see how much work needs done to get ready for Ireman in August. Lots going by today's effort.
We planned to meet at 9.15am on the A823 and head over Knockhill. As usual I was slightly late. After Thursday's puncture fest I had to search out my spare tubes and after much raking in the shed a couple of spare tubes were found and I set off. Derek set off up Knockhill at a cracking rate. The forest harvesting has made it bleaker than normal and I think my heavy breathing was disturbing the Bigman as he was gliding up effortlessly. He led the way, pushing his way up the hill and was kind enough to let me sit on his back wheel. We turned at Yetts O Muckhart and set off at pace down through Dollar and into Sterling Mills for a coffee.
I realised as we were climbing up Knockhill I had far too many clothes on. I tend to overdress. I once set off on what I considered to be a cold day wearing Ski Pants over my longs - massive mistake and I had to take them off at the top of Knockhill. Johnny Two Trews!
Derek and I go back just over 5 years and yet I feel I've known him for a lifetime. We've had so many adventures including the Cape Epic and cycling from Lands End to John O Groats together so chatting over coffee is easy and the conversation always flows.
After our stop we sprinted up to Fishcross, powered by a muffin and turned back to Saline and home. We bumped into the Dunfermline CC guys heading back from their weekly Saturday ride and climbed up through Saline together.
We had biked just under 40 miles in 2 hours 17 minutes.
So quite pleased with the efforts of today and planning a ride in the morning before heading to the gym in the afternoon. I might even swim...........
I really enjoyed biking today with Derek, the Bigman who should be re-named The Power! Man he was strong today and decided to push me pretty hard, I think to see how much work needs done to get ready for Ireman in August. Lots going by today's effort.
We planned to meet at 9.15am on the A823 and head over Knockhill. As usual I was slightly late. After Thursday's puncture fest I had to search out my spare tubes and after much raking in the shed a couple of spare tubes were found and I set off. Derek set off up Knockhill at a cracking rate. The forest harvesting has made it bleaker than normal and I think my heavy breathing was disturbing the Bigman as he was gliding up effortlessly. He led the way, pushing his way up the hill and was kind enough to let me sit on his back wheel. We turned at Yetts O Muckhart and set off at pace down through Dollar and into Sterling Mills for a coffee.
I realised as we were climbing up Knockhill I had far too many clothes on. I tend to overdress. I once set off on what I considered to be a cold day wearing Ski Pants over my longs - massive mistake and I had to take them off at the top of Knockhill. Johnny Two Trews!
Derek and I go back just over 5 years and yet I feel I've known him for a lifetime. We've had so many adventures including the Cape Epic and cycling from Lands End to John O Groats together so chatting over coffee is easy and the conversation always flows.
After our stop we sprinted up to Fishcross, powered by a muffin and turned back to Saline and home. We bumped into the Dunfermline CC guys heading back from their weekly Saturday ride and climbed up through Saline together.
We had biked just under 40 miles in 2 hours 17 minutes.
So quite pleased with the efforts of today and planning a ride in the morning before heading to the gym in the afternoon. I might even swim...........
Thursday 3 January 2013
The day of many punctures......
Hopefully there is a picture below but until I get to grips with Blogger I don't know for sure!
The picture is from our Hogmanay gig, I play in a band called Father Jack and one of the people at the venue kindly took a few pictures. Well what a tubster I've become!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
So having seen the picture last night I ventured out with my mate Derek and the guys from the Dunfermline Cycle Club at 10am this morning. We hadn't even started when one of the guys suffered the first puncture of the day. Anyway slightly delayed we set off. I was at the back blethering with Derek when just after Crossford he hit a bump and his water bottle took a jump out of the cage -just as well we were at the back otherwise carnage could have ensued!
The next catastrophe struck in Culross when another of the guys punctured - we all pulled in while he changed the tube. After wrestling the tyre off the first tube was inserted, sadly a pinch puncture damaged the tube and the tyre deflated with a depressing hiss! With no more tubes, I reached into my bag and handed over my spare tube, bizarrely the same thing happened and the tyre was eventually changed with the third tube. We had lost a bit of time and Derek felt that he would prefer to get back sooner so we waved goodbye to a fellow riders and set of through Kincardine. Less than 500 metres after we had left the peleton I hit a huge hole and jokingly made a hissing sound, initially I thought it was a weird echo but I soon realised I had punctured. Tricky given I had given away my one spare tube. Derek stepped up to the plate and gave me his spare tube and we set about making good the damage.
We were soon off but cut short our route as we were out of tubes and didn't want to take the risk. Derek led us out on the way home at an incredible pace - his gym sessions and recent warm weather training made light of the mince pies and he flew up the hills taking us back to Carnock in double quick time with no more punctures.
The picture really had an impact so I headed into the home gym tonight for a weights and spin session. I'm just doing light weights, kettle bells and using my massive body weight to work out.
Managed to control the food intake and with January being a dry month alcohol is not an issue.
I would add my weight but safe to say I'm still well over 15 stone and decided that I will weigh myself again in a month. It's not so much about weight loss and more about how I feel about being me so weight is not the main thing as long as I feel I look ok.
Tomorrow I'm off to a funeral of an old friend. A sad day as he was still a young man in many ways, always had a smile on his face and couldn't do enough to help. We were robbed of his friendship by a heart attack just before Christmas. So in the midst of the madness that life throws at us all be grateful for each day and celebrate the relationships that we hold close!
Go well
The picture is from our Hogmanay gig, I play in a band called Father Jack and one of the people at the venue kindly took a few pictures. Well what a tubster I've become!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
So having seen the picture last night I ventured out with my mate Derek and the guys from the Dunfermline Cycle Club at 10am this morning. We hadn't even started when one of the guys suffered the first puncture of the day. Anyway slightly delayed we set off. I was at the back blethering with Derek when just after Crossford he hit a bump and his water bottle took a jump out of the cage -just as well we were at the back otherwise carnage could have ensued!
The next catastrophe struck in Culross when another of the guys punctured - we all pulled in while he changed the tube. After wrestling the tyre off the first tube was inserted, sadly a pinch puncture damaged the tube and the tyre deflated with a depressing hiss! With no more tubes, I reached into my bag and handed over my spare tube, bizarrely the same thing happened and the tyre was eventually changed with the third tube. We had lost a bit of time and Derek felt that he would prefer to get back sooner so we waved goodbye to a fellow riders and set of through Kincardine. Less than 500 metres after we had left the peleton I hit a huge hole and jokingly made a hissing sound, initially I thought it was a weird echo but I soon realised I had punctured. Tricky given I had given away my one spare tube. Derek stepped up to the plate and gave me his spare tube and we set about making good the damage.
We were soon off but cut short our route as we were out of tubes and didn't want to take the risk. Derek led us out on the way home at an incredible pace - his gym sessions and recent warm weather training made light of the mince pies and he flew up the hills taking us back to Carnock in double quick time with no more punctures.
The picture really had an impact so I headed into the home gym tonight for a weights and spin session. I'm just doing light weights, kettle bells and using my massive body weight to work out.
Managed to control the food intake and with January being a dry month alcohol is not an issue.
I would add my weight but safe to say I'm still well over 15 stone and decided that I will weigh myself again in a month. It's not so much about weight loss and more about how I feel about being me so weight is not the main thing as long as I feel I look ok.
Tomorrow I'm off to a funeral of an old friend. A sad day as he was still a young man in many ways, always had a smile on his face and couldn't do enough to help. We were robbed of his friendship by a heart attack just before Christmas. So in the midst of the madness that life throws at us all be grateful for each day and celebrate the relationships that we hold close!
Go well
Wednesday 2 January 2013
So where to begin.......
I was broke, the business had just gone bust, I was jobless and the future looked bleak. Parnell, Kerr Foster, a firm of accountants, had advised a Trust Deed as I had no way of repaying the £130,000 that we owed following the collapse of elbowroom, my former business and fantasy. (a nightmare that I carried around with me for the next 7 years)
I sat in my car, lost and unsure of what to do but my guts told me to wait until the next day before signing the papers. I don't know why as I had no reason to believe that things were going to get better but I never signed those papers.
Life was about to change and change for good.
Danielle and I had been married for 3 months, we were both struggling with the loss of the business and we had done nothing but work as we established and failed in our first venture. Many long nights working and carry out dinners had piled on the pounds and I'd put on a pound or forty. So sitting jobless I considered my options. I had no idea. First thought was do I drown my sorrows in the pub or should I use my new found freedom to get fit. I decided to try and get fit.
Up until the age of thirty I'd always been reasonably fit. Cricket in the summer, five a side football and the odd bike ride had kept me fit. Sadly between thirty and forty one I did nothing. Well nothing other than taking clients out for lunch, taking clients out dinner, attending cocktail parties and growing increasingly large. My weight went from 12 and a half stone to 17 stone seemingly overnight. This might seem odd but I didn't feel big until I was huge and even then I kidded myself on that I carried it well!
The bravado wore off when I donned my tee shirt and baggy training trousers. Nowhere to hide, I was super-sized. In the back of the cupboard I found a pair of lurid blue and fluorescent green trainers made by Nike at some point in the previous decade. Up until now the baggy trousers had been retained for evening attire in the flat as my jeans where too tight to chill out in.
But there was still a problem, it was daytime and people might see me. So I waited.
Danielle arrived home from work and smiled when she heard my plan. The business failure had a massive impact on her and there hadn't been many smiles of late so it was good to see that my new 'get fit' idea entertained her. It entertained her so much that next thing she was changed into her gym stuff and ready to come out with me.
As the sun set over Leith we left our 5th floor flat and headed into the deepening gloom. The park was no distance so we walked over, through the gates and set out running. When I say running I should qualify the exaggeration, we were plodding along and lasted about a minute before slowing down to a walk.
In my head I was still a fit and active 25 year old but my body told an entirely different story. With the sound of my heartbeat banging a fast rhythmic melody in my ears, I accepted the depths to which my fitness had sunk and now needed something to keep me training.
We walked home, exhausted by our 15 minutes of effort, had a shower and I sloped online and started looking at races. There were a plethora of 5k, 10k and half marathon races but my eyes were drawn to the Edinburgh Marathon. It took me about 5 minutes to get the electronic entry in and that was it I was committed to running 26.2 miles. The journey had begun.......
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