My first customer as a personal trainer is getting impatient. Well, my only customer, L. I’ve not got her PTP (Personal Training Plan) ready yet. I will finish it today and bring it home for her tonight. The question is... just how hard do you flog your nearest and dearest...
My brief is to help her take around 4-5 minutes off her 10k time. This means getting her to run at the required pace. So I’m starting her off running a km on the treadmill at this speed, then gradually getting her to increase the distance. Not that running too many km’s on a treadmill is desirable or even possible. The boredom threshold for treadmill running is very low.
In addition I’m trying to get her to do 5k bike sessions at a higher power level (getting technical now) than she’s used to, to strength her legs. Each week I hope to check progress with a timed km stretch on the road, to see how close we are. When I’ve got around to measuring such a stretch.
I’m reckoning that she already has the stamina to do 10k at the required pace, she just needs to acquire that pace... I reckon I can do it... and hopefully not fall out with my client. Particularly as she’s paying in kind.
Training is cancelled again. Yet I still go round to my father’s as pre-arranged, though was supposed to be after training. Its a sneaky way of letting someone else stand out in the rain and exercise the dogs.
(Tuesday 13th July)
Monday, July 12, 2010
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Whatever Happened To Summer?
Whatever happened to summer? Suppose the same as what usually happens to it.
It’s turned foul, almost Windermere Triathlon sort of weather. It puts paid to tonight’s dog training which is an outdoor session. Cancelled. The wimps. I might as well have trained as the boys need taking out anyway. In fact MD goes straight out in the garden and starts chewing on of the hurdles, in the rain, so he’s keen to get started. I think. Doggo watches from the open doorway, staying undercover. He’s not quite so keen.
It would be too dangerous to train in the garden, not for the dogs, for me, I’d slip and put my foot down one of the many holes MD has dug. So I take them on the park instead. Doggo grudgingly joins us, walking along the side of the house, sheltering from the rain for as long as possible before we start the walk to the park.
Later, L and I check out the new pool at Djanogly. I ought to be in the gym really, doing my July session to earn by £50 council bribe for going once a month. L is worried we won’t get it because the new government has announced that funds are to be withdrawn from the anti-obesity campaign that this was part of. The council received the money up front, so we should get it...
The laned swim at Djanogly is weird. The lanes are double width which means it's less a case of swimming up and down, more a case of swimming round and round. Very disorientating. A bit like swimming in Windermere I guess but without the current, the rain and the steamboats trying to run you over.
(Monday 12th July)
It’s turned foul, almost Windermere Triathlon sort of weather. It puts paid to tonight’s dog training which is an outdoor session. Cancelled. The wimps. I might as well have trained as the boys need taking out anyway. In fact MD goes straight out in the garden and starts chewing on of the hurdles, in the rain, so he’s keen to get started. I think. Doggo watches from the open doorway, staying undercover. He’s not quite so keen.
It would be too dangerous to train in the garden, not for the dogs, for me, I’d slip and put my foot down one of the many holes MD has dug. So I take them on the park instead. Doggo grudgingly joins us, walking along the side of the house, sheltering from the rain for as long as possible before we start the walk to the park.
Later, L and I check out the new pool at Djanogly. I ought to be in the gym really, doing my July session to earn by £50 council bribe for going once a month. L is worried we won’t get it because the new government has announced that funds are to be withdrawn from the anti-obesity campaign that this was part of. The council received the money up front, so we should get it...
The laned swim at Djanogly is weird. The lanes are double width which means it's less a case of swimming up and down, more a case of swimming round and round. Very disorientating. A bit like swimming in Windermere I guess but without the current, the rain and the steamboats trying to run you over.
(Monday 12th July)
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Bragging Rights
The dog show kicks off with the team event, four dogs over the same jumping course, two doing it clockwise, two anticlockwise. Mayhem. A truce is called by my team and we run in the prearranged order, the illogical one. Which is inexperienced dogs first through to the most experience dog last. I was thinking roughly the opposite because it could all be over on the first run.
Only afterwards, when we’re out and our best, most experienced dog is faced with a course where around half the jumps are on the floor and subsequently goes wrong, betraying its status as best dog, do the others say that perhaps we should have ran in the order I suggested. Which was most experience dogs first, so that the jumps stay up longer and therefore everybody actually gets a course to jump. Hmmm I have done these things before you know.
As it happens, the most inexperienced dog on the team, MD, ran first and put in a better showing than any of his team mates. He only has one pole down before dog two demolishes most of the course.
MD was running in a team that we put together ‘just for fun’, a strange concept that I had to get someone to explain to me before I grudgingly decided to hide it from my competitive nature, well, on this occasion. Doggo also runs in a team and his team are doing it slightly more seriously, I hope. He puts in a faultless round, unfortunately the rest of his team do not. I rush off to run his first individual course, a real toughie, perfect for us. I get him round the hardest bits then for some reason he misses a relatively easy tunnel. So that’s us out of that as well. The course is so hard there are only two clear rounds. It should have been three and at least a third place trophy for us. Opportunity missed.
I have no time to dwell on this failure as we are called back to the team ring, to rerun. A timing failure means that our first attempt didn’t count. Lucky escape really, it wasn’t pretty, Doggo apart. In the rerun, Doggo again goes clear and the rest of the team are much better this time but still we don’t get among the places.
Then it’s back to MD and some good runs from him cumulating in a simply brilliant clear round on the jumping course. It was nervy stuff though as I got half way round the course with no poles down and then started praying he’d do the rest ok. Then we had to negotiate the weaves three from home but he did the lot perfectly, bless him. Clear. That’s only his second clear round at a full Kennel Club show and unlike his first one this one was quick. In fact we go into 4th, only .6 off the lead. Wow. The effect is slightly spoilt when one more dog beats him and takes the lead by three full seconds but we hang on to 5th. I’m so proud of him.
Meanwhile Doggo’s having a bad day, I suppose he didn’t get his Chinese last night. We bag another elimination and then he has the first jump down on his final course, the rest of it isn’t bad though. Not bad at all as it happens, again very few clears and we come 8th even with 5 faults. So a rosette for each dog today. Though MD has first bragging rights tonight.
(Sunday 11th July)
Only afterwards, when we’re out and our best, most experienced dog is faced with a course where around half the jumps are on the floor and subsequently goes wrong, betraying its status as best dog, do the others say that perhaps we should have ran in the order I suggested. Which was most experience dogs first, so that the jumps stay up longer and therefore everybody actually gets a course to jump. Hmmm I have done these things before you know.
As it happens, the most inexperienced dog on the team, MD, ran first and put in a better showing than any of his team mates. He only has one pole down before dog two demolishes most of the course.
MD was running in a team that we put together ‘just for fun’, a strange concept that I had to get someone to explain to me before I grudgingly decided to hide it from my competitive nature, well, on this occasion. Doggo also runs in a team and his team are doing it slightly more seriously, I hope. He puts in a faultless round, unfortunately the rest of his team do not. I rush off to run his first individual course, a real toughie, perfect for us. I get him round the hardest bits then for some reason he misses a relatively easy tunnel. So that’s us out of that as well. The course is so hard there are only two clear rounds. It should have been three and at least a third place trophy for us. Opportunity missed.
I have no time to dwell on this failure as we are called back to the team ring, to rerun. A timing failure means that our first attempt didn’t count. Lucky escape really, it wasn’t pretty, Doggo apart. In the rerun, Doggo again goes clear and the rest of the team are much better this time but still we don’t get among the places.
Then it’s back to MD and some good runs from him cumulating in a simply brilliant clear round on the jumping course. It was nervy stuff though as I got half way round the course with no poles down and then started praying he’d do the rest ok. Then we had to negotiate the weaves three from home but he did the lot perfectly, bless him. Clear. That’s only his second clear round at a full Kennel Club show and unlike his first one this one was quick. In fact we go into 4th, only .6 off the lead. Wow. The effect is slightly spoilt when one more dog beats him and takes the lead by three full seconds but we hang on to 5th. I’m so proud of him.
Meanwhile Doggo’s having a bad day, I suppose he didn’t get his Chinese last night. We bag another elimination and then he has the first jump down on his final course, the rest of it isn’t bad though. Not bad at all as it happens, again very few clears and we come 8th even with 5 faults. So a rosette for each dog today. Though MD has first bragging rights tonight.
(Sunday 11th July)
Friday, July 9, 2010
Where We Went Wrong
At a bit of a loose end today and I’m not into loose ends. L’s got Pilates and all manner of gym sessions planned, whereas I could perhaps stay home and cut the hedge. Alternatively they are sort of entries up at Bakewell at the dog show I’ve booked for tomorrow and they’re offering some pay on the day classes, so I decide to go for today as well. I take my bike with me, just in case there’s not enough dog stuff to keen me occupied.
Turns out that there are just two classes that I can pay for on the day, one for each dog. I ask the organisers if they would let me run MD ‘not for competition’ in some of the others. They are a bit awkward and say no. Some shows will, some shows won’t.
MD runs his one class very well, very smooth, quite fast, but has a couple of poles down. So just the one with Doggo to do then, then I can perhaps get my bike out. I expect the two classes to run one after the other so I should be finished by lunch and then I can go for a spin around the Peak District. Nope. Doesn’t work out that way. They make me wait until the afternoon, not even using the now vacant ring as a practice ring, which would have been useful.
Finally when Doggo gets to run, it’s a great round and amazingly we go into the lead, though we are eventually displaced down to second. That’s still not bad, in fact it’s very good. That’s out of all the large dogs. Unfortunately they intend to run the two smaller size categories over the same course and combine the results. Yep, we get beaten my couple of mini pooches and end up 4th. Still... better than me last night. L reckons it was probably the Chinese Doggo had last night, perhaps that’s where we went wrong. Chinese for us next weekend then.
Once Doggo has run it’s too late to get a meaningful bike ride in, so I head home to L, where both Son and Daughter are both out. Oooh the decadence of having the place to ourselves. Later we head out as well, leaving the dogs to rest up for tomorrow but not before I get a phone call haggling about the running sequence for tomorrow’s team event. My own fault really, I suggested a logical change of order. This was a bit illogical of me.
(Saturday 10th July)
Turns out that there are just two classes that I can pay for on the day, one for each dog. I ask the organisers if they would let me run MD ‘not for competition’ in some of the others. They are a bit awkward and say no. Some shows will, some shows won’t.
MD runs his one class very well, very smooth, quite fast, but has a couple of poles down. So just the one with Doggo to do then, then I can perhaps get my bike out. I expect the two classes to run one after the other so I should be finished by lunch and then I can go for a spin around the Peak District. Nope. Doesn’t work out that way. They make me wait until the afternoon, not even using the now vacant ring as a practice ring, which would have been useful.
Finally when Doggo gets to run, it’s a great round and amazingly we go into the lead, though we are eventually displaced down to second. That’s still not bad, in fact it’s very good. That’s out of all the large dogs. Unfortunately they intend to run the two smaller size categories over the same course and combine the results. Yep, we get beaten my couple of mini pooches and end up 4th. Still... better than me last night. L reckons it was probably the Chinese Doggo had last night, perhaps that’s where we went wrong. Chinese for us next weekend then.
Once Doggo has run it’s too late to get a meaningful bike ride in, so I head home to L, where both Son and Daughter are both out. Oooh the decadence of having the place to ourselves. Later we head out as well, leaving the dogs to rest up for tomorrow but not before I get a phone call haggling about the running sequence for tomorrow’s team event. My own fault really, I suggested a logical change of order. This was a bit illogical of me.
(Saturday 10th July)
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Saving Nothing For Later
I take the bus this morning with the aim of going straight to tonight’s race on Darley Park. It’s the Colin Potter Memorial 10k this evening which I ran last year. This year though there’s a nice week long gap between the Nottingham Grand Prix series and this race, which means I can take it more seriously. Last year it was the day after the Colwick Park 5 miler.
Problem is, due to being away on holiday, I haven't actually trained for it and haven't even run since the Colwick Park race last Thursday. Well there was that morning with the dogs I suppose... if you can count that as a run.
In the afternoon, L supervises the annual boiler service. I hope the engineer doesn’t feel the need to tinker with it; it has been working fine recently, which is unusual. He compliments us on having a very efficient system, which he comments will be even more efficient once our teenagers leave home. As will a lot of things, such as finding towels in the bathroom and cutlery in the cutlery drawer rather than having to venture into the alternative universe upstairs to hunt down such items.
I meet L off the bus, although she is later than I expect but my iphone won't let me contact her to check which bus she is on. I noticed the other day that oddly since I upgraded to iOS4.0 I can no longer receive or make calls in the bus station despite having full reception. It’s the same today. Odd. I sense some kind of plot.
L could be lying in the street again, felled by another bout of ‘iPod oblivion’. You know, that near trance like state people enter whilst using mobile phones and MP3 players. She had an attack of that just before we went to Windermere and got felled by a paving slab.
So I’ve told her to take extra care reading her audio book, we don’t want any more pre-race cuts and bruises but I’m worried. She’d already announced that she was leaving work early to spend extra time with Mikhail. Someone has apparently tried to shoot her hero. Hopefully she’s on the bus with him now, on the edge of her seat or if she’s not on the bus yet, wrapped around a lamppost. Thankfully she arrives unscathed and we head to Haslams, Derby Rugby club for the 7.15pm start.
The race starts and I sprint away from the start line, determined to get a good start as last year I was caught out by the bottle neck caused by the ‘bike gates’ that come just after the 1k mark. I nearly got decapitated on one of them because I didn’t see it coming. I pass the Abbey pub in about 12th place, scary. I’m going far too fast as I proceed to sprint up the hill. Others are perhaps taking this section more wisely, slowly, saving something for later.
Then we’re on to Darley Park, where thankfully this year the weather is fine, so the footpaths aren’t treacherous. Then we’re past the 1k mark. 4.03. How come. That’s slow. I know it’s uphill but even so, I thought I was tanking it.
Then we’re heading downhill, quite quickly, dodging some evil looking pot holes and heading towards those infamous bike gates. This time I get a clear sight of them but they’re still not easy to negotiate when you’re plummeting downhill. Surely there must be a better route for the race than this.
The rest of the first lap is quite flat, which is a good job as I’m more or less spent already. The drinks station comes just before 4k and the cup of water goes straight over my head; it’s quite hot tonight. Then we’re completing the first lap, with just the simple task of doing it all over again. The first lap is impressively under 20 minutes but I’m fading fast. I promise myself that I’ll do the big hill and then jog around the rest. I forget though that the big hill is in fact in three chunks and very hard work second time around.
Despite taking the last four km very steady my time is still a minute up on last year and I’m 27th. So I have to be pleased, even though I'm in not fit state to feel pleased. Despite the good placing, I'm not sure it’s my sort of course. I’ve done it twice now and maybe that’s enough.
Then we take my Dad, who came to watch us, to the Silk Mill, where he hasn’t been for years. He’s impressed. L spots the Jaipur. Which is dangerous stuff to replace lost fluid with.
We move on to the beer festival to have a few there. My Dad doesn’t join us; he’s already been this year. His first trip ever. Wow. I was stunned. That’s radical for him. Apparently there was a band he wanted to see! A brass band. He’s already making plans to go again next year.
After sampling two 8.5% ales from Fullers, called Gold Pride and Vintage, you know nice gentle ones to start with, L spots the Jaipur again and is quickly reunited with it. Nothing else is quite as good. In fact it’s a bit of a poor selection really, again. There's not enough known breweries and you can’t take risks all night long.
We eat there too. Though not the frankfurter and mustard that L was craving for, I think she’s overdosed on watching Germany in the football. Instead we end up with rather stodgy but nice, cottage pie.
Apparently back home, Doggo has been dining in style too, he helped himself to Daughter’s Chinese. Which doesn’t really sound like him, it would probably have been sweet and sour and that’s not really to his palate. Hope it fuels him up for his show tomorrow.
Problem is, due to being away on holiday, I haven't actually trained for it and haven't even run since the Colwick Park race last Thursday. Well there was that morning with the dogs I suppose... if you can count that as a run.
In the afternoon, L supervises the annual boiler service. I hope the engineer doesn’t feel the need to tinker with it; it has been working fine recently, which is unusual. He compliments us on having a very efficient system, which he comments will be even more efficient once our teenagers leave home. As will a lot of things, such as finding towels in the bathroom and cutlery in the cutlery drawer rather than having to venture into the alternative universe upstairs to hunt down such items.
I meet L off the bus, although she is later than I expect but my iphone won't let me contact her to check which bus she is on. I noticed the other day that oddly since I upgraded to iOS4.0 I can no longer receive or make calls in the bus station despite having full reception. It’s the same today. Odd. I sense some kind of plot.
L could be lying in the street again, felled by another bout of ‘iPod oblivion’. You know, that near trance like state people enter whilst using mobile phones and MP3 players. She had an attack of that just before we went to Windermere and got felled by a paving slab.
So I’ve told her to take extra care reading her audio book, we don’t want any more pre-race cuts and bruises but I’m worried. She’d already announced that she was leaving work early to spend extra time with Mikhail. Someone has apparently tried to shoot her hero. Hopefully she’s on the bus with him now, on the edge of her seat or if she’s not on the bus yet, wrapped around a lamppost. Thankfully she arrives unscathed and we head to Haslams, Derby Rugby club for the 7.15pm start.
The race starts and I sprint away from the start line, determined to get a good start as last year I was caught out by the bottle neck caused by the ‘bike gates’ that come just after the 1k mark. I nearly got decapitated on one of them because I didn’t see it coming. I pass the Abbey pub in about 12th place, scary. I’m going far too fast as I proceed to sprint up the hill. Others are perhaps taking this section more wisely, slowly, saving something for later.
Then we’re on to Darley Park, where thankfully this year the weather is fine, so the footpaths aren’t treacherous. Then we’re past the 1k mark. 4.03. How come. That’s slow. I know it’s uphill but even so, I thought I was tanking it.
Then we’re heading downhill, quite quickly, dodging some evil looking pot holes and heading towards those infamous bike gates. This time I get a clear sight of them but they’re still not easy to negotiate when you’re plummeting downhill. Surely there must be a better route for the race than this.
The rest of the first lap is quite flat, which is a good job as I’m more or less spent already. The drinks station comes just before 4k and the cup of water goes straight over my head; it’s quite hot tonight. Then we’re completing the first lap, with just the simple task of doing it all over again. The first lap is impressively under 20 minutes but I’m fading fast. I promise myself that I’ll do the big hill and then jog around the rest. I forget though that the big hill is in fact in three chunks and very hard work second time around.
Despite taking the last four km very steady my time is still a minute up on last year and I’m 27th. So I have to be pleased, even though I'm in not fit state to feel pleased. Despite the good placing, I'm not sure it’s my sort of course. I’ve done it twice now and maybe that’s enough.
Then we take my Dad, who came to watch us, to the Silk Mill, where he hasn’t been for years. He’s impressed. L spots the Jaipur. Which is dangerous stuff to replace lost fluid with.
We move on to the beer festival to have a few there. My Dad doesn’t join us; he’s already been this year. His first trip ever. Wow. I was stunned. That’s radical for him. Apparently there was a band he wanted to see! A brass band. He’s already making plans to go again next year.
After sampling two 8.5% ales from Fullers, called Gold Pride and Vintage, you know nice gentle ones to start with, L spots the Jaipur again and is quickly reunited with it. Nothing else is quite as good. In fact it’s a bit of a poor selection really, again. There's not enough known breweries and you can’t take risks all night long.
We eat there too. Though not the frankfurter and mustard that L was craving for, I think she’s overdosed on watching Germany in the football. Instead we end up with rather stodgy but nice, cottage pie.
Apparently back home, Doggo has been dining in style too, he helped himself to Daughter’s Chinese. Which doesn’t really sound like him, it would probably have been sweet and sour and that’s not really to his palate. Hope it fuels him up for his show tomorrow.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Bewildered, Confused and Shattered
I should have mentioned yesterday that I was party to an interesting discussion last night on the way home from dog training, having picked L and Daughter up on the way. They were discussing surviving the Leeds Festival, with particular regard to the toilet facilities. There followed a debate on weeing into a tomato ketchup bottle. L claims it's not possible, Daughter claims it is. Daughter seemed all up for a head to head challenge. In the garden I tell her, this could get messy.
Thankfully I don't think it happened. Unless they staged it under cover of night. If any results come to light I'll let you know.
L’s been trying to persuade one of us, Daughter or I to go see ‘Elliott’ with her. That’s Mr Example to you or I. Neither of us are, shall we say, over enthusiastic. I suggest we flip a coin to decide it. Well anything method really that doesn’t involve a sauce bottle.
Though I’m happy to do the honourable thing here, and I have got form in this department. I’ve done Mika and lived to tell the tale.
L’s not had the best of days all round actually. She reported a minor cat problem this morning, which is probably underplaying it by a very wide margin. Nothing is ever minor with MD. I’m sure she meant a major cat problem. Yep. She says she’s beginning to hate all cats. She’s beginning to sound like MD.
Then later she reports feeling totally bewildered, confused and shattered at work, brought on by boss fatigue. Had to include that, just for the great title.
Her email though spooked me out a bit, as it illuminated my computer screen just as I was breaking the seal on the box of biscuits that she asked me to take into custody. Oops caught! It was if she was watching me...
Her solution for bewildered, confused and shattered is of course a glass of wine or two. It’s a good job I have the biscuits.
The wine is unnecessary in the end as there's Salem Porter on in the Globe, where she joins me after squash. Ah yes squash, it’s good to be back playing after a few weeks off. I even booked the hot weather especially to try and make it more challenging for my opponent. How did it go? Well, lets just say... I’m bewildered, confused and shattered.
Thankfully I don't think it happened. Unless they staged it under cover of night. If any results come to light I'll let you know.
L’s been trying to persuade one of us, Daughter or I to go see ‘Elliott’ with her. That’s Mr Example to you or I. Neither of us are, shall we say, over enthusiastic. I suggest we flip a coin to decide it. Well anything method really that doesn’t involve a sauce bottle.
Though I’m happy to do the honourable thing here, and I have got form in this department. I’ve done Mika and lived to tell the tale.
L’s not had the best of days all round actually. She reported a minor cat problem this morning, which is probably underplaying it by a very wide margin. Nothing is ever minor with MD. I’m sure she meant a major cat problem. Yep. She says she’s beginning to hate all cats. She’s beginning to sound like MD.
Then later she reports feeling totally bewildered, confused and shattered at work, brought on by boss fatigue. Had to include that, just for the great title.
Her email though spooked me out a bit, as it illuminated my computer screen just as I was breaking the seal on the box of biscuits that she asked me to take into custody. Oops caught! It was if she was watching me...
Her solution for bewildered, confused and shattered is of course a glass of wine or two. It’s a good job I have the biscuits.
The wine is unnecessary in the end as there's Salem Porter on in the Globe, where she joins me after squash. Ah yes squash, it’s good to be back playing after a few weeks off. I even booked the hot weather especially to try and make it more challenging for my opponent. How did it go? Well, lets just say... I’m bewildered, confused and shattered.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Just Like A Bath, Apparently
I’ve spent the last four days camping on the edge of the Bowland Forest, just outside Lancaster. We even nipped in to Morecambe to see Eric.
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We spent the days chilling out, trying to find a decent beach for the dogs, and eating full English Breakfasts. Well apart from one thing...
The Bowland Forest is conveniently situated a mere two junctions down the M6 from the Lake District so it proved a good base for us to participate in the inaugural Windermere Triathlon. I would have done the whole thing naturally but they’d thrown a certain four letter word beginning with ‘s’ and ending with ‘m’ in there that put me off. L would have done the whole thing too but for a certain four letter word beginning with ‘b’ and ending with ‘e’. So welcome to Team Fit For Nothing + 1. We are a relay team. Lawyers on standby to deal with the disagreements.
We manage to pop up on Saturday night to register but any hope of a quick reconnaissance mission is dashed because there are no signs yet that an event is due to take place at all. We have to double check it’s still on.
The next morning though, transition springs up out of nowhere on Cockshott Point near Bowness on Windermere. Then before we know it, a very nervous looking L, clad in wetsuit, is wading out with the other mad folk into Lake Windermere.
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The 1,500m swim takes them out around somewhere called Crow Holme Island and back. The water looks very choppy... glad I’m on dry land. The water though was virtually tropical, apparently, ‘just like a bath’. I’ll take their word for it.
L looks stressed but I’m very laid back about the whole thing, just looking forward to a nice blast around the Lake District on my bike. My only requirement really is that L doesn’t take her time too much and dump me in last place. Other than that I’m looking forward to chasing a few people down. As it turns out there are 94 starters and amongst some seriously good company she comes in around seven from the back. I’ll take that.
All the time we were up in the area the weather was glorious, shorts weather and I have the sunburn to prove it. The exception was on race day and more specifically when I started the bike leg. Suddenly it turned into your typical wet and windy Cumbrian fare. It also meant I got my posh bike wet. Grrrr.
I know most of the roads that the 43km ride is on and knew I’d enjoy it before I even started, despite the on-off rain. I wasn’t expecting too many hills, it is the Lake District but the course was on some of the flattest roads you’ll find around these parts. So a bit of a drag up a hill out of Bowness was a bit of a surprise but it soon settled down to just undulating.
I was hoping to average 29kpm, so the ride would take me just under an hour and a half. I also had the aim in my head of overtaking around twelve other competitors and I get the first one on the way out of transition, I overtake him running with my bike out to the mount point.
I pass my next victim in the centre of Bowness, less than a km in. Easy this. Ten to go.
The route basically follows the outline of the lake, through Ambleside, then Hawkshead, where the only really big hill on the course is. Then it’s down to Newby Bridge before turning back up for home.
I don’t pass many for quite a few miles but then I come across a glut of cyclists and gradually tick them off my list. Twelve victims are soon counted out and in the end I reckon the body count comes in at 19, that’s discounting several others who I think were maybe just out for a pleasant morning cycle and weren’t in the race. Sometimes it was hard to tell. The presence of a race number wasn’t always obvious, as many had put on jackets to keep out the rain.
I find out later that I did the 23rd best ride of the day. So thrilled with that. Though a lot of the folk I beat obviously were a bit tired from their swim... but so what.
The weather saved its worst for the 10km run, which was L’s job. I could have done this of course but was glad I didn’t. A four lap course in the pouring rain. Yuk. It was bad enough sheltering under the trees with the fan club (the dogs).
In the end we finished 63rd overall. Which that ain’t bad. So that’s my first Olympic distance triathlon done, well a third of it. I wonder if my team mate will fancy doing any more.
Back to today and back to reality, work etc. Though I liven things up by taking the dogs for an early morning run. Something I’ve not done for a while. It was an experience, a bit fraught but we got through it. Loose cannon at the front, shooting (his mouth off) on sight. Whilst Doggo was stationed as rear gunner, methodically taking care of things at the back, all the bushes that needed watering etc etc. Sometimes he was lagging so far behind I’d forgot he was with us. Then there’s me, trying to keep order in the middle.
Then dog training later which causes me to miss Germany’s exit from the World Cup. So a Holland v Spain final, a new name on the trophy.
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We spent the days chilling out, trying to find a decent beach for the dogs, and eating full English Breakfasts. Well apart from one thing...
The Bowland Forest is conveniently situated a mere two junctions down the M6 from the Lake District so it proved a good base for us to participate in the inaugural Windermere Triathlon. I would have done the whole thing naturally but they’d thrown a certain four letter word beginning with ‘s’ and ending with ‘m’ in there that put me off. L would have done the whole thing too but for a certain four letter word beginning with ‘b’ and ending with ‘e’. So welcome to Team Fit For Nothing + 1. We are a relay team. Lawyers on standby to deal with the disagreements.
We manage to pop up on Saturday night to register but any hope of a quick reconnaissance mission is dashed because there are no signs yet that an event is due to take place at all. We have to double check it’s still on.
The next morning though, transition springs up out of nowhere on Cockshott Point near Bowness on Windermere. Then before we know it, a very nervous looking L, clad in wetsuit, is wading out with the other mad folk into Lake Windermere.
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The 1,500m swim takes them out around somewhere called Crow Holme Island and back. The water looks very choppy... glad I’m on dry land. The water though was virtually tropical, apparently, ‘just like a bath’. I’ll take their word for it.
L looks stressed but I’m very laid back about the whole thing, just looking forward to a nice blast around the Lake District on my bike. My only requirement really is that L doesn’t take her time too much and dump me in last place. Other than that I’m looking forward to chasing a few people down. As it turns out there are 94 starters and amongst some seriously good company she comes in around seven from the back. I’ll take that.
All the time we were up in the area the weather was glorious, shorts weather and I have the sunburn to prove it. The exception was on race day and more specifically when I started the bike leg. Suddenly it turned into your typical wet and windy Cumbrian fare. It also meant I got my posh bike wet. Grrrr.
I know most of the roads that the 43km ride is on and knew I’d enjoy it before I even started, despite the on-off rain. I wasn’t expecting too many hills, it is the Lake District but the course was on some of the flattest roads you’ll find around these parts. So a bit of a drag up a hill out of Bowness was a bit of a surprise but it soon settled down to just undulating.
I was hoping to average 29kpm, so the ride would take me just under an hour and a half. I also had the aim in my head of overtaking around twelve other competitors and I get the first one on the way out of transition, I overtake him running with my bike out to the mount point.
I pass my next victim in the centre of Bowness, less than a km in. Easy this. Ten to go.
The route basically follows the outline of the lake, through Ambleside, then Hawkshead, where the only really big hill on the course is. Then it’s down to Newby Bridge before turning back up for home.
I don’t pass many for quite a few miles but then I come across a glut of cyclists and gradually tick them off my list. Twelve victims are soon counted out and in the end I reckon the body count comes in at 19, that’s discounting several others who I think were maybe just out for a pleasant morning cycle and weren’t in the race. Sometimes it was hard to tell. The presence of a race number wasn’t always obvious, as many had put on jackets to keep out the rain.
I find out later that I did the 23rd best ride of the day. So thrilled with that. Though a lot of the folk I beat obviously were a bit tired from their swim... but so what.
The weather saved its worst for the 10km run, which was L’s job. I could have done this of course but was glad I didn’t. A four lap course in the pouring rain. Yuk. It was bad enough sheltering under the trees with the fan club (the dogs).
In the end we finished 63rd overall. Which that ain’t bad. So that’s my first Olympic distance triathlon done, well a third of it. I wonder if my team mate will fancy doing any more.
Back to today and back to reality, work etc. Though I liven things up by taking the dogs for an early morning run. Something I’ve not done for a while. It was an experience, a bit fraught but we got through it. Loose cannon at the front, shooting (his mouth off) on sight. Whilst Doggo was stationed as rear gunner, methodically taking care of things at the back, all the bushes that needed watering etc etc. Sometimes he was lagging so far behind I’d forgot he was with us. Then there’s me, trying to keep order in the middle.
Then dog training later which causes me to miss Germany’s exit from the World Cup. So a Holland v Spain final, a new name on the trophy.
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