Back in the Saddle

Hello, good evening and welcome back to my blog.

It's been a strange half of a year, Lord. My wife, quite predictably, has given birth to our first child, Daniel. I have gone through peaks and troughs of fitness; running a half marathon in 1:49, starting to train for a marathon, but then succumbing to various and as yet undiagnosed groinal injuries. I've started a new blog, The Daddy Diaries, - I'll leave you to figure out the subject.

With all this going on, I toyed with the idea of giving up tirathlons..."more important things to do". However, I've decided that I want to show my son life rather than tell him about it. I want to see his Dad compete rather than recount stories to him of how I 'once did a triathlon (or twice attempted but fell off the second time). And most of all, deep down, I've love to go on runs with him, take him on bike rides and teach him to swim (properly). So I didn't let my fitness go completely to pot, in fact, even when my injuries prevented me from swimming, running and cycling I managed to get down the gym at least twice a week. And now that Daniel is here and taking up som much time, I've taken to cycling to and from work (barely adding to the commute time, but giving me 45 minutes of cardio) and jogging at lunch when I can (once so far, to be fair). But competing seemed a step too far this year, at least. But then I read my blogging pal, Al's, super brilliant race report and the joys of last summer came back to me. As much as I'm enjoying training, I need a goal and the joy of racing has to be it. Some come September I shall be in the Ilkey Triathlon! Thanks, Al, you're an inspiration.

The Olympic Dream

Duncan Goodhew’s golden scalp, Daley Thompson struggling over 1500m to take gold as seemingly everyone else in the race is passing him, three spitfires banking into the final turn of 1500m race in Moscow (EDIT: I've mixed up my memories, but they're my memories nevertheless). Wow. These are some of my Olympic memories. “But, Rob, you’re too old to be in the Olympics in 2012” I hear those with a modicum of sense (but who also talk to their computers) say. Well, OK, I am and although I fully intend to be ‘there’ for a part of 2012 at least, this post has not a lot to do with the Olympics. Except it does, really…if you’ll indulge me.

"Citius, Altius, Fortius." meaning " Swifter, Higher, Stronger” is generally recognised as the motto of the modern Olympics, apparently. Although they are relevant to my triathlon journey; the Olympic creed, as stated by Bishop Ethelbert Talbot at a service for Olympic champions during the 1908 Olympic Games is far more so:

"The most important thing in the Olympic Games is not to win but to take part, just as the most important thing in life is not the triumph but the struggle. The essential thing is not to have conquered but to have fought well."

I may have ‘failed’ in Kendal if finishing time (or even just finishing) is the measure of success. For on-lookers I can understand this viewpoint – my stated aim was to complete a triathlon and I didn’t – failure. However, my real aim was to enjoy the process and benefit from the self-improvement involved in training for and competing in a triathlon which I have done – success!

“the most important thing in life is not the triumph but the struggle…”

I love this sentence and have only begun to really understand and apply it to all areas of my life. Getting married wasn’t just about the act of putting a ring on the finger of the woman I love, it was about the process of preparing a day to share and proclaim our love with our friends and family. Having a child isn’t about ‘producing’ a baby or even an 18-year-old ready to face the world; it’s about enjoying pregnancy, learning and growing both with and from our child. Triathlon training is not about crossing a line, it’s about becoming a better, more healthy and happy me – and enjoying the struggle of becoming so.

There’s a lovely side-benefit of competing in staggered-start triathlons which I came to realise in Derby. Over the course of the run a guy passed me only a mile into the race and seemed to slow down afterwards, I almost caught him back up when he stopped for a drink at the turning point though he pulled away from me afterwards (after checking several times that he was keeping his lead over me). This ‘race’ between us was entirely artificial as neither of us knew who had set off earlier – in fact all we knew was that we HADN’T set off at the same time! So he’d either set off 4 mins before or after me in all likelihood. And yet I’d acted as motivation for him to pass me and he’d provided a similar spur to me! Both of us knew that we weren’t going to ‘triumph’ over one another because there was at least 4 minutes between us, yet we both benefited from the struggle to get over the line first and had a giggle about it afterwards.

But the main struggle is out on the roads, in the gym, the kitchen and the office license and this is where I’ve really benefited from it. Struggle has too many negative connotations for me to feel entirely comfortable with its usage here as there has been a great deal of enjoyment. “Struggling” to switch from beer and burgers to pasta and proteins has been enjoyable, a 6 mile run on Tuesday with new friends/acquaintances is a highlight of the week – a pint on a Friday with colleagues is a pleasant and rare break, not a continuation from the week’s drinking, etc. This is the endeavour which I enjoy. I also happen to enjoy measuring, stretching and competing with myself and others in races and events and beating a personal best or preset expectation may be an added bonus, but again, it’s the act of doing it which gives the pleasure and the absence of the process of being a triathlete would hurt the most should it be removed, not missing races.

At this point I feel a little like the British athlete who has come last in the final of 800m at the Olympics and the interviewer comes up and asks him/her how she feels and “Great, I did my best” comes back. I HATE it when some commentator or another says “That’s not good enough, s/he should be distraught at being EIGHTH – we expect medals”. Now I know it’s complicated by funding etc., but if someone has done their best then why not just acknowledge it? Similarly, for years tabloids screamed for “someone we can just cheer through a few rounds” of Wimbledon. Along comes Tim Henman – amazing performer and unfortunate to be a grass-court specialised at the same time as Pete Sampras – fabulous Wimbledon performances year after year – tabloid response? “Loser”. His crime? Not WINNING Wimbledon (there have been 4 Mens Champions in the past 11 years). What I’m trying to say is that I’m concerned that you will judge me to be a loser because I’m content with my DNF when I feel like a winner. But I guess I just need to understand that I can’t really influence how others feel about my performance and just be content in my own views.

Anyway, my ‘Olympic’ dream is that I have determined my next goal in triathlon…to compete in an Olympic distance triathlon and complete each section (which are at least twice as long) at the same pace at which I did Debry minus 10%. So that would mean:

1500m swim to be completed in 27mins
40Km bike to be completed in 75mins
10Km run to be completed in 44mins 20secs

Add in few mins and we’ll be looking an Olympic-length triathlon in around 2hrs30mins. These targets to me look very stretching to achieve by June next year – particularly the bike, but without feeling overly tied to them I hereby make them my stated goals for my first Olympic distance triathlon (though the real aims are unstated ;) ).

I hope you'll be with me through my struggle...

Kendal - not so mint

Here follows my blow-by-blow account of the Kendal Triathlon:

Build-up

I managed to pack up and get on the road by around 2pm on Saturday afternoon, big difference to Derby's lastminute.com arrival. Had a lovely evening (if you're ever there check out The Bridge Street Restaurant) and early to bed, early to rise. A bit too much faffing around meant I arrived slightly later than ideally I would have liked to in the morning, but I was carrying the essentials only. Feeling confident I approached the poolside with about 15mins until the start.

The swim (750m)

I was drawn in a lane with somone a bit slower than me (probably 20 years older too, pretty impressive) and set off 10 secs after him (why not me first seems an obvious question). The pool was more shallow than I was used to, which was weird (my hand would actually scrape the bottom in the shallow end). It was also choppier which meant rolling further to get to the air, but recent technique improvements seemed to be paying dividends. The chaos of Derby was replaced by a quite mellow swim, I accelerated throughout and got out at around 14mins40secs - meaning I lapped faster than Derby, over nearly twice the distance and felt less tired as I'd not used my legs for power at all, just keeping flat in the water as I knew I'd need them for the long bike ahead...or so I thought.

T1

I left the pool at around the same time as around 4 other people and managed to skip past a couple in T1 by taking my swim flip-flops with me to enable a good trot from the pool, by keeping my transition area free from clutter and by running properly with my bike to the exit. The only real learning point was that the vaseline I'd applied to my cycling shoes to ensure a quick slip-on was all over my hands! Some slipping incidents on the bike but no disaster.

The bike (20Km)

Kendal is in the Lake District. Home of lakes...and mountains...and big hills...cycle 20Km anywhere in the Lakes and you're talking hills. However, this was steep and unrelentingly so. I'd driven it the night before to reccy the route and knew that I'd seriously under-estimated this route - somehow thinking it was a long, very slightly incline out and the reverse back. Anyway, I was leading the group who'd left the pool at the same time as me and started to pick-off a couple of others. Stopping and starting for traffic lights etc. meant we rebunched together and it became quite competitive. I knew there was lots of climbing and was determined to stay in my seat wherever possible to conserve energy. This led to a lot of overtaking, on the steepest sections two guys behind would stand up and accelerate past and on lesser inclines and relatively flat sections I'd regain position. I was really enjoying this element of racing and when it came to the first serious section of downhill I decided that, as they were taking the opportunity to have a rest that I'd make a break for it and speed down the hill in aero position. I look up and the corner is approaching rather rapidly...oops...I suddenly realise that I've never cornered at speed before. I slam on the brakes to ensure I stay on my side of the road into the blind corner "Front brakes are best, front brakes are best" right brake lever slammed on...skid as I realise that is the back brake lever. I become acutely aware of my rear wheel appearing in the periphery of my right-eye vision. There's a line from the very average Will Smith film 'iRobot' "You are about to experience an accident" which goes round my mind. For seemingly a few seconds it's all very calm and I get to decide the nature of my fall; whether to unclip my shoes or not (yes), whether to try to keep on the road or head straight to the hedge/verge (verge, always the verge) and then whether to stay on the bike or roll away (hmmm, tricky, I think away might be best). WHALLOP. Thankfully there's no car coming the other way as my initial contact is with the tarmac in the middle of the other carriageway. I roll several times and into the hedge. The bike's in the middle of the road. I get it and do a quick check for blood and other such damage. Blimey, that was exciting. And I'm fine - I could even catch up. I remount and realise the chain is off, repair that and but so it goes on, brakes out of place, etc. until I realise that my rear wheel is buckled. Bugger. After briefly considering running the remaining 10 miles of the bike ride (with non-functioning bike....no) I start the long walk back. Several competitors offer help and ask how I am and lose time in doing so - wow - how great is that? But I'm out, no-one has a spare rear wheel with them. Thankfully my wife decided to follow in the car and picked the damaged me and the damaged bike up. I am out of the competition and will not finish.

Overall

Well, obviously this isn't a good way to finish a season and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed. However, I learnt a great deal and wouldn't swap my summer of triathlon sprint training for anything else I could realistically have done. Clearly, I've learnt that I need A LOT more time on a real bike, riding real roads getting real experience before I should allow myself to race on the roads. But, I've also learnt that I can compete in these events, not with the top men, but with others like me, both more experienced and less so. Most importantly I've learnt that I can be a triathlete and exceed my expectations...and to quote another line from a film...I'll be back.

The Final Countdown

There comes a time when every man must face the time of reckoning. A moment when he must reach deep into his soul. He must explore the very core of what makes him tick. He must face fear in the face in the eyes, he must confront his past and look boldly at what lies ahead. He needs to look back at the greatest of all time and get ready to mix it with them. For me that time has come. It's time to finalise my iPod play-list of motivational songs to run along to.

It would be (kind of) easy to stick with the 'modern' classics - a of blend of respectable indie, punk and pop would be passable both in terms of its utility and lack of embarrasment factor should someone happen to read or overhear it.

However, there is something primal about cheesy American rock, my theory is that tribal rituals must have sounded like "Eye of The Tiger" - why else does it make those of otherwise good taste tap their feet or even don their 1980's jogging gear and run up steps?

So what made the final cut?

The good

Kayne West - Stronger

Buffalo Springfield - For What It's Worth

The Prodigy - Smack My Bitch Up

Motorhead - Ace of Spades

The bad

Zoe - Sunshine on a Rainy Day

Wildchild - Renegade Master

Bach Turner Overdrive - Ain't Seen Nothing Yet

The ugly

Oceanic - Insanity

Survivor - Eye of the Tiger (it's tribal!)

Bill Conti - Gonna Fly Now (the music from Rocky I)

No Britpop made it onto my playlist! For an indie-kid this is highly suprising, but, when it comes down to the final 200m of a race, who do I want in my ears, inspiring me across the line; Jarvis or Rocky Balboa?

The Day After The Evening After The Morning Before

So I've had some time to contemplate my first foray into the world of multi-discipline sport. What have I learnt from this experience, specifically that I can use in The Main Event in Kendal?

Firstly, and most importantly. I love triathlon. If I ever become so obsessed with performance, stats or placings that I don't enjoy a race then I will recall this event and what good sport should really be about. Competition - Yes, Stretching oneself - Of course, but first and foremost good sport must be fun. How this sits with getting out on a 50 mile bike ride on a soggy Thursday evening in January we'll have to see, but the pain must always be outweighed by the pleasure.

Secondly and most obviously of all. ARRIVE EARLY. This is so obvious it really embarrasses me to have to remind myself. Given approaching 60 hours of training, that I was sat in bed, unable to sleep for an hour on the morning of the race and still managed to be rushed at the start was stupid.

Thirdly, Keep It Simple, Stupid. In my panic to leave on time I loaded all kinds of crap into the car, spare T-shirts, spare deoderant (???), etc. etc. Half of this rubbish I ended up taking with me to the transition area. Although it would have been easier if there were someone with me, this is due to my tendency to compensate for my lack of preparedness by over-complicating things. This contributed to a poor T1 and a lack of confidence which wasn't good either.

Nextly, and finally, go to the toliet before racing. If this were an Olympic distance triathlon I mind have ended up Paula Radcliffe-like on the run. Not clever. Crap, in fact.

Hitting the (Et)wall

Well, I’ve completed my first triathlon, not quite in world record-beating time but it was a resounding success, I achieved everything I wanted to and a little more; I had a great time, I learnt a few things without making a complete balls-up and surpassed my expectations in terms of perfermance. Here follows an overly detailed report which I have written for myself more than on-lookers, but you are free to delve into any part you may be interested in.

Travel & Build Up

Woke up an hour before the alarm, couldn’t really sleep though I knew I needed to. ‘Hadn’t fully decided on breakfast strategy, went for muesli and banana…too much in retrospect. Showered and woke the wife pre-arranged 30 mins before planned set-off time. She’d not been feeling too well yesterday so I was, or should have been, prepared for her not to be fit enough to go, but wasn’t and she clearly wasn’t well enough to come along. Packed up and left 15 mins late. The main advantage of the wife not going was that meant I could zone out on the trip. I let Julian (our SatNav) direct my every movement and listened to some inane ‘debate’ on Radio 5 (I genuinely can’t recall the topic even though I listened intently for nearly 2 hours). Arrived in the village of Etwall an hour ahead of set off time so ambled over to registration, sans bike, turns out the car park is about half a mile away from registration. Thankfully I’d at least taken my tri-suit, so I got changed, but put my tracksuit back on over the top. Jog back to car…forty mins to go and only 5 mins to get to race orientation. Ooops. Scarper back to event…pre-race talk totally pointless really; “Follow the arrows” would have been sufficient (this isn’t a criticism of the organisation, a compliment really that they’d laid everything out so well, also was nice to just have an overview and someone confirm it all for you). Twenty mins to go…arrrgghhh…I need to be at poolside in five minutes! I haven’t laid out my transition area nor gone to the toilet! Decide laying out the transition area is the priority. Do this and get some handy hints from bloke next to me (like go back and get the swim cap that you’ll need) who is similarly disorganised, but has done several triathlons previously. The transition area, I had convinced myself – though based on nothing other than assumptions, would be on tarmac – nope – grass, except now it’s mud. I throw my towel pretty much into the middle of the biggest puddle around – no shower will be fine – and make my way to the pool.

The Swim (400m)

I had heard about the chaos of swim starts for outdoor swims – the washing machine – but had assumed a pool start would be calm. I couldn’t have been more wrong. As the countdown to my start came along all three of the other swimmers in my lane were bearing down on me. As the starting whistle went I was in between two who were turning. I set-off. "Beep" as I start my watch. All four of us are now together. In theory I should be the fastest swimmer in the lane at this point and the person in front of me appears to almost come to a standstill only 10 metres into my swim. “What do I do?” I panic and go to overtake. It becomes apparent she was slowing down for the swimmer in front who had snagged themselves on the rope. The person behind me also goes to overtake. Complete chaos ensues for the next four laps as we over and undertake each other constantly. Someone leaves; someone else gets in, more pandemonium. In the middle of this I also discard my watch (had never warn one in the pool before the drag was far greater than I’d expected). It looked calm in other lanes, but ours was mental, almost the entire time. When it settled down I tried to remind myself of my original plan, “Focus on breathing calmly” “Two laps left” shows the sign and shouts a voice from above. I honestly would have guessed that I’d completed 6 to 8 laps. Tried to power the last 2 but too much congestion. I’m out of the pool in 8 mins flat. Almost exactly as predicted. Happy with that, though God only knows how this transpired.

To T1….

There’s a approx 200m run on concrete and then mud at Derby Triathlon, so (against my fellow competitor’s advice) I’d left socks and shoes out side the pool for the run back to the transition area. Not sure whether this turned out to be wise or not, people around me who I was faster than in the pool passed me as I put the trainers on so probably not. Around 90 secs I think to entering T1

T1

I managed to stay calm until my wet socks don't allow my bike shoes on (Vaseline next time…) and managed a decent pace trot along the mud in my cleats, slow on the pavement and slow mount/start. Out in around 2/3 mins – room for improvement here.

Bike (18Km)

The bike was the aspect concerning me most. I’d never managed a ride achieving anything more than 14mph. Knowing the winners would be whizzing past at over 20mph and those around me probably around 17/18mph, this was a big concern. I just hadn’t been riding on a route which didn’t have lots of junctions so had always been stop-starting, I’d also suffered from not knowing my correct bike set-up. Anyway, as I set-off a couple of guys on super-cool TT-bikes go straight past me, at pace. “Is this going to be 11 miles of being over-taken???” I panic again. Thankfully a few slower paced people allow me past at similar relative speeds and I regain my composure and start…spinning, this is an elusive feeling for me and the panacea for cyclists...I think it means getting the rhythm going. Whatever it is I get it fleetingly throughout the ride and for the first time ever, really, I feel like a cyclist. About the same number of people go past me as I pass, not many. The only problem is that I can feel a build up of lactic acid in my quads, unsurprising as I’m effectively doing a form of exercise I’ve never previously experienced. Idiot car pulls out in front of me, close to slamming into the back of him, only avoid doing so by him pulling into the on-coming carriageway as he realises his error. Overall the bike was fantastic. Dismount after about 38 mins (I’ll have to confirm this later, I lost all watch control at this stage). That’s 11.6 miles in 38 mins… 17.6mph. Wow. I’d expected around 43/44 mins. Delighted with bike performance.

T2

From around half way on the bike the lactic build-up made me realise that I was going to suffer on the run. I had done longer ‘brick’ sessions, both bike and run consecutively and found my running pace hadn’t really suffered. But this was because I’d never biked non-stop at pace before. I was more than willing to sacrifice what I hoped would be some temporary pain on the run as I felt I was gaining so much time on the bike. As soon as I dismounted I felt it. In fact my legs wobbled and the marshals around me went to help me and then laughed with me as the jelly-legs hit me. I managed to force myself into decent run posture and had a reasonable trot into transition and a very calm and quick T2. I even managed to pass a few people who stopped for drinks etc. Out of T2 in around 2 mins.

Run (5Km)

I have ran 5K in 22mins and was secretly hoping to do this in 23, but my punishing bike session meant this wasn’t going to happen. I’d hoped my legs would come back to me after half way or perhaps after a downhill section, but they never did. The few bursts I attempted just increased the pain in my legs and slowed me immediately afterwards. By now a number of the later-starting swimmers were coming past, some sprinting (number 93 in particular whizzed by) and I couldn’t find anyone in front of me who I could hold onto. Although I knew, to an extent at least, this was caused by a great bike it irked me in my strongest discipline. I thought I might be able to either muster a sprint finish or creep under 25 mins, but both eluded me. Though I'm not unhappy about this, it just gives me the area to focus my training on (the bike, not the run!). Perhaps the only genuinely disappointing aspect of the day was that out of the crowd of around 50-100 people at the finish, no-one applauded me or my close-by finshers. I cross the line(/inflatable?) in 26 minutes-ish.

Overall

All-in-all it was a great event and a memory I will treasure. I performed better than expected at 1hr 15mins (this is still to be verified, is currently based on what the close-by finishers said they'd clocked) compared to 1hr 20 expected/target, and have learnt some important things. But most of all, I can say the sentence I have longed to over the past few months…

“I am Rob Bane and I am a triathlete”

Woohoo!

Edit: My times have been confirmed as:

Swim + run to T1 + T1: 11mins 17sec - Room for improvement here, especially in transition

Bike + T2: 38mins 27sec - Whoa!

Run: 24mins 46secs - Yay beat the 25mins target afterall!

Total: 1hr 14mins 30 secs - Yeehah!

Newcomer

I've experienced many things during my 34 years, but I don't think anything will stay with me for as long as the moment I first glimpsed my unborn child.

Just 10 weeks "old", but there she/he was - staring right at me (or would be if foetuses had fully formed eyes at this age)! Whoa. I'm bizarrely proud of saying that it brought me to tears.

"So, what does this have to do with triathlon training?" the more hard-hearted amongst you may ask. Well, not a lot I suppose, you cardiatically petrified automatons. However, between the above pose and this, classic foetal, pose...

...she/he went through an intense kicking and arm-moving period! Most amazingly of all this appeared to be in almost perfect front crawl technique, then cycling/spinning movements then running! Really, my wife is gestating a world-beating triathlete!