9.8 metres per second per second

I can’t believe it has only been a week (and a couple of days) since the Prudential Ride London. It seems such a long time ago. After the race I had a week off, I had hoped to go for a small run or a ride to get the legs moving again but I ended up with quite severe pain in the outside of my lower calf. Dr. Google said it was in my soleus and it was down to overuse and not properly stretching after the big ride, but then on Friday the pain mysteriously went away.  I think I have actually identified the problem being down to my current obsession with Pokémon. I have been doing a lot of walking at lunchtime in my work shoes to catch those elusive pocket monsters and on Friday I had no pain in my leg, the only difference is that I was wearing trainers for dress down Friday rather than my unforgiving leather shoes. Since then I have been mostly fighting fit again.

On Saturday we went Parkrun tourist, this week was to Queen Elizabeth Country Park in Horndean. It is a beautiful parkrun with a beast of a hill in the middle of it. Every time I run or ride a hill I decide that I need to do more hill work during my training because the Parkrun locals whizzed past me on the incline. The actual reason we were being parkrun tourists was because I had a parachute jump in the afternoon and Parkrun was a good way to break up the two hour journey. While skydiving isn’t exactly running or riding or actually anything to do with getting a medal, I have to add it to my blog because it was awesome.

I am finding it difficult to put the experience into words (which is a shame as I am trying to put it into words for the blog) but I will try my best. The flight up to altitude was fun, I have flown in light aircraft a few times and it was a bit like that except I wasn’t facing forward in the co-pilot seat, instead facing backwards in the cargo area strapped to my tandem instructor. We got to 10,000 feet and levelled out, the side door opened, a light turned green and no one seemed concerned that with a whoosh we were missing a few people. The door was closed again and we began another climb up to 15,000 feet. This was my stop. The side door opened, a light turned green again and my heartrate went up a few beats. I was the last one to go and when I got there a solo jumper was hanging onto the outside of the plane just chilling out in the airstream. I was positioned outside the plane by my instructor and got a good look at what three miles off the ground looked like (if you’re wondering, it’s mostly like google earth except it is a bit windier). The solo man fell off and I was briefly concerned for him but then I fell off too.

It wasn’t scary; it was all too intense to be scary. The ground was just there almost not rushing up towards me, I was just there hanging out in the sky, the wind was getting louder and breathing was a bit of a chore but apart from that I was enjoying the adrenaline soaked, wind buffeted, terrifying views of a lot of ground. My freefall was interrupted by a bit of a racket behind me and then an abrupt jerk as the chute opened; compared to the previous 60 seconds this was now calm and tranquillity despite the fact that I was still hanging 5000 feet above the ground. We swooped and turned, pulling a few G’s each time as we aimed for the landing circle, we touched down with a run (rather than sliding in on our bums) and I felt awesome. One amazing experience. 

Sunday morning was quite pedestrian by comparison. I was up early and took my lime green racing kayak out for a paddle. I’ve owned it now for the best part of 10 months and have only paddled it a handful of times. I had hoped to spend the summer training in it as she is a tippy boat and falling in when it’s cold is no fun but I once again filled this year’s summer weekends with events so haven’t been out in it half as much as I would have wanted. I was able to keep upright while paddling which is an improvement from last time but once again I fell in while trying to get out. At least the weather was warm.  

The weather’s looking good for this coming week and I have an Olympic distance triathlon at the weekend, so I should have something to talk about next week.

Prudential Ride London 100

This weekend saw 27,000 riders take part in the Prudential Ride London 100 miler. I was one of them.

Turning up in London after a short night’s sleep and an early start I was experiencing a bit of that nervous excitement I sometimes get before a big challenge. Driving into London It was easy to see how big this event was going to be. We had to park a short(ish) distance away from the start and along every road hundreds of riders were streaming in one direction, to the Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park.

Once the bike was ready to go there was a nice little warm up ride to get to the event hub, and after negotiating bikes and riders intent on going every which way I arrived at my start bin. I was about an hour early (because I am always early) and was told by the Man that I wasn’t allowed to go early because... ‘rules’, despite the fact that the loading pen was half empty and other riders were slipping by him left right and centre. I stood around (im)patiently for a bit and then, I did something I wouldn’t normally do. The Man had wandered off to leverage the authority his high-vis jacket afforded him onto someone else who was infringing a rule, and I slipped into the loading pen as stealthily as a Lycra clad ninja. Within 15 minutes I was away with thousands of other riders.

Riding with so many riders on a closed road is awesome and terrifying at the same time. Everywhere there are people on bikes, you pass some, you are passed by others, you hop onto the back of a train of faster riders and draft for a bit, you have conversations with other likeminded folks, and on a closed road it is even more fun as you don’t have to worry about cars. But putting riders of vastly differing abilities in the same space can lead to some near (and not so near) misses. I nearly came a cropper a couple of times when other rides did something I did not expect, and some riders exceed their ability or luck. Unfortunately at about the 60k mark it went terribly wrong for a rider ahead of me. 

I had been stonking along. London is mostly flat, and with the slipstream and pace of the other bikes around me I was averaging over 35kmh and was on target for a sub 7 hour time (even with the Surrey hills taken into account). But the traffic ahead began to slow and then stopped completely. A sea of helmeted heads is pretty much all there was to see. Word rippled down from the front that there had been an accident and the road was closed while air ambulance could get to the stricken rider. We were held stationary for about 45 minutes before we started to shuffle forward in a slightly frustrating stop start way; I was surrounded by Garmin’s beeping as the auto pause turned on and off. As we walked that mile or so of the route it became clear  as to what had probably happened, the road dropped into a steep descent and narrowed, there was then a sharp right hander which was blind until you arrived at it. I can’t know what might have happened had I been riding but I too might have gone in too fast and run out of stopping power, had I not been pushing my bike instead.

Getting back into the saddle after such a long delay was quite hard actually, my legs had become leaden and my bum was starting to feel sore, and the Surrey hills still lay ahead. Leith Hill was the hardest incline of the day in my opinion, Boxhill might get all the glory after it’s Olympic spotlight but the short sharp kick of Leith is a much more demanding test. After the long hold we arrived with all of the riders bunched up. With the weight of traffic and less experienced riders resorting to walking pretty much before the climb had begun it became really congested. Trying to ride was difficult but I stayed clipped in and was able to spin to the top.

The support on the event was excellent. There were hundreds of spectators out along most of the route, whole villages turned out with barbeques and drinks, and once we got back into London the streets were pretty much packed. They all cheered the riders on, picking out something from the riders jersey like a club name and yelling their support. With the charity riders though it sounded a bit more sinister. “Woo. Alzheimer’s. Go get ‘em!” or “Yay Kidney Disease. Not far now!”, “Awesome work Blood Cancer. Keep pushing!”. I wore a retro but obscure Tour De France team strip from a decade ago so I didn’t get any name checks but the people raising money for charity deserve the applause so I don’t mind. 

Finishing on the Mall (Or was it Horse Guards Parade?.. As I write up each blog I am concerned with how much detail I don’t take in) was a bit underwhelming for me. I’m not sure if I had built up the anticipated spectacle too much in my mind, or if I have seen these sights of London a few too many times, or if I was just too tired to care, but despite the fact that I had ridden further than I have ever done in a single day the best I managed was a half-hearted victory punch as I crossed the finish line. There was no savouring the moment, no selfie holding my bike aloft like so many other people, just a slightly pained hobble as I pushed my bike to collect my medal.

The Medal though… I am a bit of a medal connoisseur and I have to say that this one is a bit special. Definitely in my top three favourite medals, it looks great with two different metals, the rear has the map of the course on, and it is huge. 

Brownsea

I didn’t blog last week for a few reasons, one of which was because I didn’t really get up to much. After posting about my last few events, and the potential to do the channel crossing by kayak, it didn’t seem worth it for a single post about a single parkrun (which wasn’t particularly fast either).

Saying that I did visit a physio for my ongoing rotator cuff injury. She identified so many bits of me which are tight, misaligned, or injured. With everything that is apparently wrong with me, I’m surprised that I am able to physically function at all. After a few tests and exploratory prods she pummelled my back and shoulder until bone and sinew had been suitably loosened up. It was quite uncomfortable at the time but did do a lot to improve the injury… And then this weekend happened and I now need to go and see her again.

This weekend was a trip to Brownsea Island organised by a group of watersports coaches who are closely associated with the Scouts. Brownsea (as I’m sure you already know), was where Baden Powel chose to hold the first ever Scout camp, and this trip is an annual pilgrimage by canoe. The diamond channel crossing team saw this as a good training opportunity and were generously allowed to take kayaks rather than canoes this year. Four of us took two double sea kayaks.

As a camping trip we had to take everything we would need for an overnight stop, including our food, tent, clothes, and other must have essentials for surviving a night in the wild (mainly wine, and insect repellent). Which meant the boat was loaded with probably an additional 20 or 30 kilos of equipment, added to an already weighty plastic K2 I would guess we were trying to shift upward of 60 kilos. Over recent months I’ve got used to glass K1 boats weighing less than a quarter of that.



Brownsea by Kayak, Day 1

We set off from a campsite near Wareham putting in onto a tidal section of a river (I think the Frome but like normal, I wasn’t really paying attention). We then paddled down through the tidal mud flats keenly sticking to the channel (I did this trip a few years ago in canoe and got stranded on a sand bar as the tide went out) and then we headed out across a wider expanse of sea to the island. The conditions were beautiful, the weather was with us and there was not much in the way of wind which meant the water was so calm.

On the first day we covered the twelve kilometres in about two hours which was not bad considering the weight of the boats. While under power the weight wasn't much more noticeable as momentum just punched the boat through the water, but getting them going in the first place was really hard, even the loss of one of the paddlers effort made shifting the boat a huge strain and the steering was so vague.

We were ashore and setting up camp by midday but my shoulder was giving me some warning signs, and despite an impromptu deep tissue massage I decided that I shouldn’t go back out for a bit more kayaking as planned. Instead we roved around the island looking for Geocaches and Pokémon. (Yes, I too, like pretty much everyone else in the world, am playing Pokémon Go!).

Brownsea by Kayak, Day 2

Day two we broke camp, loaded the boats again and put to sea. The second day was a much shorter trip back to mainland for the canoes, but as our kayaks were much quicker and we needed to get training mileage in we did a circuit of Brownsea before heading to the get out. Day two was about ten kilometres and another hour and a half of paddling strain on my shoulder.

So here I am, Monday, tired and sunburned, with a shoulder that is worse than it was two weeks ago. I was told by my physio that I had to rest it and I know now that I am going to have to do just that if I am going to be available for the crossing in August.

 

Excuses

I’m not sure if I should start this week by whinging about how bad the weather has been, claiming that I was recovering from the Giants Head Marathon, or admitting to myself that I went into a bit of a lazy slump last week… I’m going to go with… Weather. It has been a rotten week weather wise so I have been forced to stay dry inside, to recover from the marathon and in no way was I being a lazy turnip.

I do have a new thing in my diary which I very much must train for now though. I have one of those friends that has a way of making crazy things happen; almost always involving a kayak. She is half the reason I ended up doing DW a couple of years ago, she involved me with the Abbotsbury Swan Drive a few years back as well, and now I am on a team of four to kayak across the channel for the Diamond DofE challenge.

I have been drafted in as a replacement for someone who has been forced to drop out. All of the preparation seems to have either been done or is in hand and I think I am just going to be the stoker for one of the K2s. If I’m honest I feel like a bit of a fraud, swooping in after the work has been done to simply claim the glory.

Anyway,  I am going to be paddling a K2 and I’m going to have to get used to working as a team so I joined one of their training sessions this weekend. It made me realised that this challenge was going to be a bit greater than turning up and paddling for a few hours. The boats we will be using are very heavy, not particularly fast and I found the seat really uncomfortable. The idea of having to drive one for 8+ hours at sea is losing its appeal. I should be able to sort out the seating position to make it a bit more comfortable, but it is still going to be a hard slog: We were out for two and a half hours on Saturday and only managed 14kms. By comparison, in the racing K1 I would have doubled that distance.

At some point during the session, I’m not sure if it was while paddling or lifting the cumbersome boat, I aggravated a shoulder injury I have been carrying for a little while. It was an annoying niggle last week but I think it’s fair to say it’s a full blown injury now. I might need to seek professional help to get it fixed before the crossing attempt.

The next medal event for me though is the Ride London 100 in not very many weeks time so I also went out for a training ride with a couple of friends on Sunday. In total I covered about 60kms with quite a lot of climbing which was good to throw at the legs, I did struggle a bit but I think I can still blame the marathon a bit for my lack of peak performance.

I don’t usually talk too much about my times and speeds and other metrics on this blog as I think it can get a bit boring but this number is a concern. In total on this weekend’s ride, my average speed was 20.2km/h. The Ride 100 has a cut off time of eight and a half hours, and is 100 miles long. Assuming that my average speed will be similar on the day, I will finish the event in 8 hours. That only leaves thirty minutes for feed station stops, toilet breaks and potentially any mechanical issues. Having completed a few sportives I know that a lot of time can be lost at feed stations. I’m either going to have to ride faster… Or miss some of the feed stations.

The weather looks to be on the turn for the better so I am down one excuse for not doing any training this coming week…

The Giants Head Marathon

I have a big five in my events list this year. These are the events that really stand out for me as the ones I truly look forward to, and this Saturday was the second of them. The Giant’s Head Marathon. I put this event up on a pedestal when I first discovered White Star Running a couple of years ago as the medal was great (it got better for this year), it was winning awards for being the best Marathon (quite rightly it turns out), and I didn’t think I could ever do a marathon. Then last year I accidently did a marathon and though it was time to step up to see what the Sydling and Cerne Valleys had to offer.

The race start was an early Saturday morning, so we headed up the day before and camped. While sleeping in a tent the night before a tough race isn’t everyone’s ideal preparation, I sleep like a log under canvas so I woke fresh and ready to take on the hills in the morning.

My trail marathon kit is pretty much sorted now, fine tuned over the last couple of years running. Trail runners, sock type gaiters to keep the stones out, compression socks which are there to partly to apply compression, mostly to fend off bugs and nettles, and obviously my shorts and t-shirt. On top of that I have my water bladder which has enough pockets for my phone and some gels. A bit of surgical tape is crisscrossed artistically to protect myself from runners-nipple, and some Vaseline is applied liberally to bits of me which protects from the worst of the blisters. I was also taking music with me for the first time because I knew there would be some dark moments on the course.

I have been blessed so far with the weather on event days this year, and again the sun was out with the perfect amount of cloud to knock the temperature down to make running pleasant. We were gathered for the usual pre-race preamble which is always a bit more light-hearted with White Star events, and then before I really knew it, I was off to take part in my second marathon.

I have done a number of endurance events now,including multi-day kayaking and cycling, I’m even starting to consider myself an endurance athlete, and I have learned that the moment I start, I am in a race against the dispirits. These shadowy specters will catch up with me at some point, usually during another stupid hill or when I haven’t seen another competitor for ages, and sure enough at about the half way mark I started to seriously not enjoy myself.

I found myself clock and distance watching, and it didn’t seem to matter how much I tried to run, I didn’t seem to cover any more ground. It was hard, I had been going for about three hours and I knew there was at least another three to go. I had pretty bad blisters on both of my feet (I forgot to Vaseline a couple of bits). At the previous water station I hadn’t put the lid on my bladder properly and didn’t realise until most of my water had soaked my back, and there was another hill... Fortunately I've faced the shall-I-just-quit? demon before and come out the other end... And I also had a secret weapon this time, the dispirits cannot outrun The Phoenix by Fall Out Boy. Before I knew it I was bouncing along again.

There are three things that I will take away from this race.

Giants Head Elevation

Number one. The route always went uphill. I don’t know how that is possible, I'm sure we should have come back down at some point but all I remember is up. The race started, we ran about five hundred metres before facing the first of what was claimed to be nine hills. Most of us were reduced to walking, a couple of runners who had done the route before said that the first one was the worst. I agree with them! It was the first and only hill I remember. I didn’t count any of the others because they all just blended into hill number one.

Number two. The Scheduled Monument that is the Cerne Abbas Giant, while gloriously endowed with a thirty five foot erection, was a little underwhelming from ground level. From the air, after his chalk outline gets a renovation I’m sure it is an impressive sight, but if you’re planning on making a trip to take a selfie from the closest layby I would suggest there are better photo opportunities to be had (with a humongous willy or otherwise).

And the third thing is cramps. I have never suffered from particularly severe muscle cramps before but I was literally twice tripped over by my own leg going into spasm. It came on usually after I tried to start running again, after either stopping at a water station or after walking uphill, a final spasm again nearly tripped me over just as I was crossing the finish line.

Six hours, eight minutes of running what seemed like mostly uphill was rewarded by a warm welcome back at the village, a pint of cider, and a spinning willy medal, and as I sat there back in my tent I had mostly forgotten the grim bits and was contemplating which marathon to do next.

Giants Head Marathon Medal (with spinning member)

Swim the Lake 2016

This week’s post nearly didn’t happen. Why? Well mainly because I didn’t do very much last week at all except for a Parkrun (didn’t get a PB) and a bike ride (60k, wasn’t very fast), both of which happened on Saturday. With tapering for a marathon this coming weekend and the weather being dire, I didn’t really feel like I had much to say… but then Tuesday happened and here I am all keen to share.

Quick note on the Saturday bike ride. This was the first time I have used my new tri-bars and I have to say that I am smitten. When I go into the aero position the speed difference is palpable, and they are really comfortable to lie in. I do think I need to tweak my bike setup to maximise the benefit of the bars, with a shorter stem and maybe take out a couple of spacers to make the aero position even more aero, I don’t intend to change my setup until after the Ride London 100 though as the tri-bars are not allowed for that event and the bike is currently set up nicely for sportives.

Swim the Lake 2016

I think this is the first time I have taken part in an event on a weekday. 7pm after work on a Tuesday night is not like me, I’m usually in bed by then. However I had been goaded into taking part in the enigmatically named “Swim the Lake 2016” race. The mystery lake was actually Ardingly Reservoir and I decided to go for the medium distance of 1.5km.

I haven’t exactly been working on my open water swimming, I think I have been swimming once since my tri. Coupled with the fact that pretty much every other swimmer in my wave was from a triathlon club, I didn’t hold out much hope for a top position. In fact, I was worried that I might have sloshed ashore near last but I actually feel that I represented myself quite well.

After the water warm up we were herded together to plop into the water from a floating pontoon. I had entirely forgotten about my goggles which I had on my head, and after I plopped, they pinged off and floated away. Fortunately my friend recovered them for me but I did spend a few moments contemplating how I would cope swimming 1500m without them. I need to be more careful next time.

At the start I positioned myself near the front at the very end of the swimming line so that I didn’t get caught up in the elbows-n-feet argy-bargy that I knew would happen in the middle of the pack. Right from the word go I went for it with my less than bomb proof front crawl. If I do say so myself I was actually not bad, I had to alternate between my crawl and breast stroke but there was a great deal more front crawl from me than usual. I was even enjoying it.

In the end I’m very pleased with my time. 00:33:35. Much faster than I thought I would be and I know I can do more to bring that time down (mainly by crawling more). Practice is needed.

Swim the Lake 2016 medal

 

Nothing

This is going to be a short post about nothing much at all. (Actually thinking about it, this might be considered an excessively long post if it’s about nothing much at all).

Last weekend during the Worthing 10k I picked up a bit of a niggle in my right quad, nothing too serious it just felt like someone had rather meanly given me a dead leg. I made things a little bit worse because the following day was the last nice weather day and I made the most of it by going for a longish run in the sun. Since then I have been keen to give my leg some rest, and also since then it has been raining. The rain/dead-leg combo has proved to be the perfect excuse for me to mostly play the Playstation.

I did take delivery of a set of clip on aero bars for my bike this week. I have been contemplating them for a while but have hesitated because my bike isn’t a TT bike so they might look a bit out of place, and they are banned for the sportives I enjoy. Talking to a few people over the last few months, and reading bits and pieces online, I persuaded myself to get some as they do offer an alternative riding position and in theory will give me some more speed. I have yet to take the bike out for a spin with them, but soon…

The weekend, usually a bastion of exercise for me was this week spent in Manchester to celebrate a friends 40^th. So for the best part of those two days I was either driving, drinking, or sleeping. By the time I got home on Sunday I was quite jaded and didn’t really want to do anything. I did manage to pluck up enough enthusiasm to sort out my less than byzantine kayak storage system though. Two of my boats have been blocking the side alley for ages so I bungeed them to the fence. To complete this marvel of engineering I have essentially stapled a tarpaulin over the lot to offer protection from the worst of the weather. I don’t think it win any awards for style but it is an improvement on where the boats were previously.

Worthing 10k

I ran the Worthing Half marathon a couple of months ago, it was fast, flat, and I managed to knock 2 minutes off my half marathon PB. When the Worthing 10k race appeared in my periphery (I can’t remember if it was a clever bit of facebook targeted marketing, an email, or a recommendation from one of my runny friends) I knew there was the potential for me to set a new 10k PB, so of course, I signed up.

It was a relatively early start for a race with a 09:30 gun time, but that wasn’t going to be a bad thing as the sun had been turned up to maximum and the wind had been set to idle. Had it been closer to noon I think it would have been unbearable.

It was a sell-out event and the sea front was packed, by the time I got to the start line I was about 200 metres away from the start line. The man on the tannoy said something, there was a muffled cheer from 200 metres ahead and two minutes later the runners in the middle of the pack including me, started that run/walk thing that you have to do with the busy events.

I thought that I would spend the first couple of kilometres trying to get past the slower runners in front of me but as it was a closed road event it proved to be much easier to find the space to run at my pace once we shuffled over the start line. The PB was on!

I’m not the best at race preparation to be honest. I know what I should do, eat right, hydrate properly, blah, blah, blah but I hadn’t had time for breakfast and I was a bit dehydrated before I started. It was hot, my pace was sizzling, and very quickly I was feeling it. I knew there was water at the 5k mark though and I could use it to cool down and rehydrate. I powered on.

I could see the runners ahead all moving across to the left hand side of the road. A sure sign that a water station was coming up, I moved over, snatched my bottle and kept on running. No time to stop, I was chasing my PB. The plan was to give my feet and head a squirt of water to cool down a bit before drinking the rest but I fumbled it. I dropped the bottle onto my left foot which unhelpfully hoofed it over a ditch and into a field. So much for the water stop.

I knew quite a few people running and I was ahead of most of them, with the return leg back along the same road it was about a kilometre of high fives and encouragement which was really great. What was also really great were the two guys who were spraying a fine mist of water from pressure washers over the runners.

The last two kilometres or so along the sea front I found pretty grim, I knew it is the final stretch but I couldn't see the finish line. Memories of the half marathon came back to me, it was about here that I choked. I had caught up with my pace runner and was flying but for some reason that long slog back to the finish line was too much and I ended up walking much of the way. Not this time though, I dug deep and gave everything I had.

I felt a bit faint towards the end and this next bit was a bit dream-like. I crossed the finish timing mats and stopped my Garmin, made sure I got my medal before staggering a little way to clear the funnel, I picked a bit of tarmac that was in the shade, went to my hands and knees and gently rested my head on the ground. It was all very deliberate, I wanted to get out of the sun and get some blood back to my head but it clearly was quite concerning behavior, I had a concerned runner checking on me, and when I lifted my head back up there were a couple of St. John medics making their way over. I gave them my best “I’m still alive” thumbs-up which seemed to cheer them up though.

I did get that PB. Fourteen seconds off my previous, taking me to 00:49:45 for the 10k. Fast and flat, well organized, and a really decent medal. A jolly good Sunday despite the sunburn and the weird bit at the end.

Worthing 10k Medal

Scouting

I’m back, I knew you’d miss me.

I spent last week in tent, in a field, next to a river, trying to resemble the rough approximation of a scout leader. As you can imagine I had no computer, Wi-Fi, or much spare time, hence the lack of update to the blog last monday. This week it’s going to be a bumper double edition (though if you’re reading this in the order that the blog publishes it, you’ve already read the other half of this double). It’s probably for the best that I didn’t get a chance to write anything last Monday though as the week following my Tri was really boring.

So yeah, anyway. I’ve been a scout leader for a while and scout camp for me is essentially an excuse to spend a week living out of a tent and kayaking. Not everyone’s idea of a good time I’m sure, especially when you throw in 20 scouts to look after but it is actually a whole dollop of fun as far as I’m concerned.

As one of the kayak coaches I spent the days pottering about on the Thames in my white-water boat, trying with partial success to discourage scouts from throwing themselves into the river. In the evenings I had some free time to take the K1 out for a blast and I was able to clock up 20k over the course of those few days, on my longest solo run I managed ten kilometres, at an average of 8.5km/h. Swapping in and out of the WW boat and the K1 made me realise why I am increasingly turning my attention to K1 paddling. A trip around a handy island in my WW boat (admittedly with a cohort of scouts in tow) took over forty minutes. In the K1 it took six. It’s almost frustrating how sluggish the plastic boats move on slow moving water.

A quick change of subject but very much blog related… I can’t remember if I have put up a picture of my medal board here yet. Up until the end of last week I shared half of it but it was becoming increasingly crowded, so in a spare few minutes I kicked out the previous tenant and increased my real estate.

Medal Board

I Tri'd

This is going to be a bit longer than my usual but I did a triathlon so it’s sort of like three events for the price of one.

tl;dr – I don’t know why I was worried. Will do it again. Not bad medal.

Eton Dorney Sprint Tri was this weekend’s destination. I think I have alluded to the worry I have been feeling about the event in previous posts, but my friends and family have had to put up with me freaking out every time I thought about the event since I booked onto it 3 months ago. I think the main reason for this anxiety was a large portion of fear of the unknown, with a side order of not wanting to look like an idiot. It turns out that the additional grey hairs I have given myself were entirely unnecessary.

I have read a lot of blogs and things about triathlons in the recent weeks and while they were all about preparation, nutrition, training and things, they didn’t actually say what went on and what you need to do on the day (besides the obvious swimming, cycling, and running about). If I knew then what I know now I think I would have been a much more chilled puppy on Sunday.

Transition. Despite being the biggest unknown for me, it is not that big a deal. It is just a place to put your kit. It’s a big fenced off area with exits to the swim, bike, and run routes with a healthy dose of marshals milling about. You get a little area to rack your bike and set your kit out. How you lay it out is up to you but most people (including me) placed a towel on the floor onto which we put cycling shoes, trainers and other bits for the race. I’m sure there is an optimal way to set your kit out to minimise transition time but I just set up my little area so it looked nice. Top tip, find a landmark that correlates to your position because when there are a couple of hundred near identical bikes racked up it is quite difficult to find quickly.

Swim. I spent a while watching the other waves go, and cheer my friends as they whizzed round on their bike section, but eventually it was time to head into transition to get ready to race. I was already wearing my tri suit and with Bodyglide on my wrists and ankles I pulled on my wetsuit and went to join my peers in a holding pen. Final race instructions were given before being led down to the water’s edge. We plopped into the chilly but clean and calm water and paddled over to the start line like migrating wildebeest wearing bright pink swim caps. Exactly on the hour the hooter sounded and we were off. I tried to front crawl but I didn’t like it, I’m not sure why but rather than have a terrible time attempting to crawl I decided to fall back to my solid breast stroke. It wouldn’t be as fast but at least I would be happy. I was nowhere near the front as I hauled myself out of the water but I also wasn’t last.

T1. My first transition was pretty good considering it was my first attempt. I was half out of my wetsuit by the time I got to my bike (thanks Bodyglide), I ditched that unceremoniously onto my towel and I slipped on my helmet and my pre-talc’d cycling shoes. Someone suggested not cycling in socks as trying to get them on wet feet wastes time, so talc the inside of your shoes, it works a treat.



Cycle. The opening half a lap was a bit chilly as all I had on was a wet tri-suit, talc’d shoes (which trailed excess talc like a pair of Johnsons Baby Powder comets for about 100 metres) and cycle helmet, but the sun was blazing and I was working hard. The ride is the bit where you really see the variety of triathletes in your wave properly for the first time (the swim you’re all just wetsuits and identical swim caps). There are the elites riding bikes that cost more than my car tucked up on their tri-bars, to the first time charity riders on mountain bikes. I think I was somewhere in the middle of these extremes, first time rider on a road bike but not wearing aerodynamic carbon fibre.

T2. Transition two should be slightly easier than T1, after all it’s just parking a bike and swapping shoes but I forgot to look for my landmark, got lost and flustered, which contributed to me forgetting to take off my helmet. When I finally tried to leave for my run I was promptly sent all the way back to my spot because my skid lid had to be with my bike (Triathlon rules…) Apart from that T2 was textbook.

Run. The run was hard. I had developed a stitch and my legs were made of some kind of jelly. I managed to push out 5 minute kilometres which I was pleased with though. The best bit of the run was cruising past someone who had overtaken me with ease during the ride section.

So I’m now a triathlete. It is one of those things that I never thought I would do, and now here I am contemplating which triathlon I will sign up to next. The medal? It’s alright and I will hang it proudly with the others but like the Wings for Life race a few weeks ago, the experience was excellent and that is the thing that will stay with me.  

Eton Sprints Medal

 

No where near - Hastings 1066

Another weekend and I suppose inevitably, I had another race. This was one of the Hasler Series kayak races and unlike my first foray into competitive K1 racing, this time I raced as a club member. Yep. That’s right, I am now a fully paid up member of Wey Kayak club. I have my own vest in club colours and I feel strangely proud.

We were racing the Hastings 1066 kayak marathon, which was obviously going to be 60 miles away from Hastings, in Tonbridge.

Considering that I didn’t even want to take part in these races a month ago I do look at myself, (in those third person retrospectives Owain sometimes has) and shake my head in disbelief at how serious I am being about these races. I get promoted up one division and all of a sudden I have designs on winning every race. Fortunately this week I didn’t win or get promoted which has kept my ego in check.

Serious face

After the carnage of the first race this week was a much more civilised affair. The Div8 juniors went off a minute or two ahead of the Div8 seniors, which meant my wave had only five paddlers giving us plenty of room to position the boat, and we were released in a rolling start. I got away well and was at the front with another member of Wey for the first few kilometres; he kept me honest all the way until the turn, after which I was able to get away from him. As with the first race I tried to hunt down the boats in front of me but the div 8 juniors were not much slower than me (if not a bit quicker) and I couldn’t make up the head start they had over the distance.

It’s difficult to quite work out what position I was in while racing because some fast movers from the wave behind went past, and I overtook some of the slower paddlers from the waves who went before, but I think I was 2^nd in my wave (which out of 5 doesn’t seem that good actually...). 00:47:47 earned me 8^th place overall for Division 8 and scored 13 points, and they all count this time because I am no longer unaffiliated.

I have decided that the boat I usedis too slow and heavy and it’s time to upgrade to a slippier but more unstable craft for the next race. I can’t decide if I want to take my lime green racing machine, or go for a halfway house and borrow one of the clubs Tor’s next time.

Oh. Yeah. In other news, I got a new 5k PB at parkrun. 00:23:08.

Wings For Life World Run

This weekends’ event easily joins the ranks of my all-time favourite races and I feel quite privileged to have been a part of it. Though The Wings for Life World Run is one of those race concepts that I have probably spent more collective time explaining to people than I did running it.

Starting at exactly the same time in 34 different locations across the globe, runners have a thirty minute head start over a chase car, which then sets off at (I think) 15kph, it then incrementally increases in speed. When the chase car passes you, you’re eliminated… Simples.

There were several reasons I signed up to the race, the format of running away from the finish line was something new, the fact that ALL of the money goes to a great charity, but also I get to say that I raced against DC! I don't really get star struck but like many people I'm sure, I have been a long time fan of David Coulthard. I was a bit lot excited when I found out he would be driving the chase car for the race in the UK.



Selfie with the chase a car

The race start was at 12 noon and as always I got to the event pretty much when registration opened (because I hate being late and having to rush) so I sat for nearly 3 hours in the blazing sun, working on my tan, taking selfies, and watching hundreds of runners pour in and join the ever increasing queues to register…

Eventually we were summoned to the start and put into pens based on a colour code on the race bib… My orange bib placed me near the front and I was surrounded by people who looked fast. I don’t remember putting down an overly ambitious predicted pace, but I suppose I must have.

The race was coordinated to start at exactly the same time as all the others so there were no last minute delays or a protracted preamble that overran, just a 10 second countdown, the start fanfare, a shower of ticker tape and we were off. As usual I got swept along with the cheers of the crowd and by the runners around me so for the first three kilometres I ran much faster than I had planned. The reckless initial pace, and the 26 degree heat soon made me realise that it was going to be a tough afternoon.

By ten kilometres I was sweltering, my skin was glazed in a delightful combo-sheen of sweat, sun-tan lotion, and Vaseline, and I was absolutely knackered. By then I didn’t care if the car came around the corner and eliminated me, it would have ended the purgatory I was putting myself through. At about this point I noticed someone had fallen in alongside me, she had a South African flag and at some point I had somehow ended up carrying my own Union Jack. Even though she doesn’t know it she became my flag buddy, we didn’t share a word I just hung on trying to keep up with her pace.


Did I mention David Couthard?

My flag buddy unknowingly dragging me along for another 6km before the chase car outriders finally appeared behind us. It was time to leave everything on the road and for 600 metres I gave it all I had before being finally (and somewhat happily) eliminated. DC gave a cheery thumbs up and it was all over.

16.6kms in 1h 35m. Considering that heat I’m pretty pleased with my effort.

The race was brilliantly organised, the support from the people of Cambridge was amazing, the goody bag was stacked, the medal is pretty good (if somewhat bijou), and I get to say that I raced against David Couthard! A great event. 



Wings For Life Medal (and bib)

Strava goals

Something has been bothering me for a while. Every time I log into Strava I see this little graphic showing my lack of progress against some goal distances I set myself at the beginning of the year.

They were quite arbitrary targets (I obviously favoured the base ten numerical system to pick my numbers) that were larger than my actual distances I achieved in 2015. For the last four months I have watched that little black line, the one that shows where I should be, moving away from the blue progress bar. Last week was the first time I started closing the gap.

In fact, last week I did some kind of activity every day, and I don’t remember ever doing that before, I have usually enjoyed the rest days that I feel entitled to after exercising. The most notable of these days was on Bank holiday Sunday where I cycled 55k, ran 4k then swam 1k in a miss-ordered triathlon training session.

In total I rode 92.4kms, ran 28.2kms, swam 2500m and kayaked (although that isn’t on the list) 14kms. I need to keep that sort of mileage up every week with the exception of the cycle, if I am going to catch my targets by the end of the year.

I am however going to taper for the rest of this week. I have the wings for life world run at the weekend and I really want to do well. Using the goal calculator I think I’m going to get about 20kms before I get caught by the catch car, I’d really like to stay in the race for longer though so let’s see when I write up about it next week.

 

Wey Kayak Marathon

This weekend I had a race. A real race, as opposed to those races that I take part knowing full well that I won’t even come close to winning but it doesn’t matter because I get a medal anyway, sort of race. This was an actual race where the only way you get a medal (or mug, or T-shirt, and other prizes) is by being quite good.

The race in question was the Wey Kayak marathon; it was on the river Wey, it was in a kayak, and it only fell short of the actual marathon distance by about 22 miles. I was quite ambivalent about it to start with and when it was first mentioned to me I was planning on only going to spectate, but then in a moment of weakness I agreed to take part and I am pleased I did because I had a lot of fun.

I think it was part of the Hasler series of kayak races (but I will need to check that out) which is organised in divisions. As I hadn’t taken part in any of the races before I had been placed in the lowest division with about 20 other newbie racers. Everyone starts in division 9 and based on race times, and some arcane maths you move up and down divisions. While I was only there to take part, I planned to not be relegated out of the bottom division.

I didn’t really know what to expect so my only plan was to not fall out and/or embarrass myself. To that end I borrowed the relatively stable Hobby and formed up at the back of the pack not wanting to get into any argy bargy at the front.



Wey Marathon Start

The instant the marshal said go, there was a lot of splashing, someone to the left of me fell in, two high kneeling canoes crashed into each other, and a K1 was knocked sideways by another kayak performing a PIT manoeuvre that any American cop would have been proud of. This was the sort of carnage I had suspected from div 9… After the fun and games at the start the race did settle down and I got my head down to grind out as good a showing as I could manage… 


I have this thing where I have to overtake the person in front of me. I can’t help it, on some distance races it has caused me to run too fast too soon and I have subsequently blown up later in the race. Well I did that thing. If there was a kayak in front of me I would have to catch and overtake it. And there was always another kayak in front of me. Boat by boat I moved my way up the field and by the half way mark I realised I was up amongst the front runners (paddlers). The second half was downstream and I knew I had enough left in the tank to increase my cadence further, for the remaining couple of miles I hunted down as many boats as I could.

For my efforts I was rewarded with fourth overall, first in my age group (Veteran Male) and promotion to division 8. I entered as an independent rather than a club paddler (because I’m not one) so I didn’t get the 17 points that would go towards the Hasler (I think) series total score. But that’s okay, I might do a few more of these kayak races this year but I have already too many events in my diary and I can’t race in all of them, so I’m not going to be able to contest overall winner. At least not this year.

Bricking it!

The effect of switching from cycling to running can be profound; first-time triathletes are often astonished at their muscle weakness, and the bizarre, sometimes painful sensation in their thighs a few hundred yards into the run, and discover that they run at a much slower pace than they are accustomed to in training. Triathletes train for this phenomenon through transition workouts known as "bricks": back-to-back workouts involving two disciplines, most commonly cycling and running

I didn’t write that… That’s from Wikipedia. I just pinched it to give some gravitas to this week’s post. If you haven’t guessed, I did a brick.

I have been quietly freaking out about this triathlon that is about a month away and on a training ride last week with one of my triathlon chums it was suggested that I should try brick workouts. Having an afternoon free at the weekend and with the weather lovely I decided to give it a go.

I sort of live on a big loopy road that is a nice one and a bit kilometre circuit. I decided to do laps of it, partly because there is a Strava segment around it and partly because I could be consistent with the effort I was putting in. The first half of the loop is flat before dropping into a shallow downhill. On the bike I powered around at maximum effort until the inevitable uphill on the backside of the loop slowed my pace, I would then catch my breath until the hill dropped down again where I would hundred percent it again. Around and around I went.

Ten kilometres later at an average 26kmh (which is fast for me) I smashed it home to quickly transition into my running kit. This probably wasn’t a textbook triathlon transition as I had to find the front door key, get the bike in the house to abandon it in the kitchen, and let the dog out before I could put my trainers on but I tried to be as fast as I could. It took about 3 minutes for me to get running and considering my dog faffed about outside I think that’s not bad for my first transition.

I was warned about the jelly legs, and my run didn’t disappoint. My quads didn’t really want to get going at all for the first couple of kilometres. I was pleased that I sped up though with negative splits for the total 5k run. I was quicker than I thought I would be though being only three minutes shy of my personal best. Today my quads are still aching in a way that I haven’t had from running or cycling in isolation.

So, in summary, I enjoyed the brick and I genuinely think that it has added something to both my running and cycling… and I’m still freaking out about doing a triathlon in 4 weeks’ time.

Surrey Hills Gravel Cross CX Sportive

This weekend had a medal in it. The Wiggle Surrey Hills Gravel Cross CX Sportive. I’ve enjoyed a few Sportives in the past and a cross sportive was a chance for me to try out my AWOL on some mixed terrain, which the bike handled prodigiously. I think the main weakness in the rider/bike relationship this weekend was actually the rider who kept chickening out on some of the really technical terrain. And when I say chickening out, and this is probably a bit pathetic, there were some really muddy sections that I walked around because I didn’t want to fall into the mud.

The event was okay as these things go, it was well organized, and the Wiggle staff were really great but it wasn’t the most subscribed event I’ve been to so there wasn’t much of a buzz out on the course, they also had to abandon the cyclo-cross section as it was waterlogged which was a bit disappointing having made a big thing of this being a timed special stage. But most importantly and I am sorry to say, the medal is a bit rubbish. I think I am being more than fair when I say that this is a generic medal with a sticker on it. In short, nice event that took me and my bike out onto terrain I would never have found by myself, shame about the medal.

Other news. My bad knee is starting to play up again and I think I have worked out what the problem might be. It went from being introduced as Right-knee, to Bad-knee two years ago on the second or third day of a charity ride from London to Paris. I gave up cycling big distances for a long time after that, my knee recovered and I didn’t think about the problem again. Then last year after a fairly intensive year or running and riding, with bad-knee always grumbling about being asked to do complex stuff, like bending which I am sure is in it's job desription, it finally blew up spectacularly in an off-road race. It was something to do with my lateral Collateral Ligament and it put me out of action for a few miserable months.

This week is the first time I have put some real miles on my bike(s) since the injury and like an old but unwelcome friend, Bad-knee turned up again. It dawned on me that I haven’t adjusted my cleats in my cycling shoes since… well ever, and on a bit of a whim I gave the right cleat a bit of a tweak before setting off on the Sportive. I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to adjust it ad-hoc before an event but my knee hurt the moment I got on the bike so the way I saw it, it couldn’t get any worse. And in the end it didn’t. I think I need to have a serious look at my bike set up to see if I can improve my body position even more but I might have increased my chances (if only slightly) of an injury free year. Touch wood.

3* in Jumping

OMG it’s Wednesday already. Where is this week going? I have clearly been busy. Anyway, bike rides and trampolines are things I want to talk about in this exciting instalment.

I didn’t think I would ever be talking about trampolining in this blog, I haven’t tramped for about 20 years (I got my 3 star in jumping when I was a kid) and I had no intention of returning to the spring loaded sport any time soon, but last week we went to Airhop for my DW partner’s birthday. Airhop is essentially a massive room where the floors and walls are trampolines, and while I was clearly the oldest person there by some margin I enjoyed an hour of unfettered leaping about, I even remembered a few of the bouncing moves from my youth. The next couple of days though, wow, total body DOMS. Everything ached and it made other things much more of an effort. Quite possibly the most holistic workout. Ever!

Bikes are the other things that featured heavily since last week. The clocks went forward over Easter which means we have an extra hour of daylight in the evening. My old boss has been organising Tuesday evening rides after work ever since we were training for London to Paris a couple of years ago, last week was our first chance to get the old team back together. For the inaugural 2016 club ride the weather turned on us while we were out, and in the pouring rain while slogging up the infamous (but actually not that bad) Boxhill of 2012 Olympics fame, I got the first of two punctures. The second was a slightly more exciting blowout not long after sorting out the first.

The second Tuesday ride (yesterday) was in complete contrast, the weather was great and the chosen route was pretty flat, and fast and more importantly… No punctures. It seems I am quick on the flats, doing more than my fair share of work at the front but I am always getting dropped on the hills. I think that’s something I will focus my work on this year.

And finally, I finally took my Specialized AWOL out after it had sat unused since before Christmas. It’s an awesome bike, built for off-road adventuring. With a weekend trip to a pub twenty kilometres away, along a pretty rough and muddy bridleway I had to wonder why it had taken me so long to get out there on this machine as it handled the terrain with aplomb. I already have another, more challenging trip planned for my AWOL.

My AWOL posing in the woods

If you really care, the above events didn’t happen in that order because… well just because it was the order I wrote them down in. The real order was 2016 club ride, Jumping, AWOL ride, and finally yesterday’s ride. There were also some runs in the mix but I didn’t write about them because talking about going for a jog is a bit dull. You will know that I am having a slow news week if the weekly runs are mentioned.
 

 

Easter Weekend

Like so many kayakers in the UK, for us the Easter weekend started in Devises, unlike many who had turned up in Wiltshire this good-Friday, we weren’t heading to Westminster, we were only there to watch the start of the DW race. This was the event that I initially started this blog about and for many reasons I am glad that in the end I didn’t enter this year. While we had amazing weather on Friday, it got progressively worse over the course of the weekend (Storm Katie had something to do with it) and in the end the four day event was stopped at Teddington at the end of day three, I’m not sure how I would have felt about the event ending like that if I had taken part but I don’t think it would have been particularly satisfying. Spending Friday as a spectator did do one thing though, it was the match that lit the fuse for doing DW in 2017.

What else happened?... Oh, yeah. Triathlon. I have been having some serious doubts about taking part in this triathlon I have booked to do in May and have been contemplating pulling out. There are several reasons why but the main one is my rather stupid fear of doing something I’ve never done before (I bet there’s a phobia for that… googling… Yep, there is, it’s called Neophobia), fortunately lunch with a triathlete friend has allayed some of that anxiety (or as I like to call it Neophobia) and I have a better idea as to what to expect. Also I have to start brick training apparently.

This past week has not been all spectating and cogitation though. I’ve actually done something that looks like a real training program. Two short runs and a long run, and a pacey parkrun which was up near my PB, I have swum four kilometres, on top of all that, I have stuck in three sessions in the gym working my way through my personalised training regime. Joining the gym was a great idea and I am feeling really positive about it all at the moment, I have the good ache.

Lastly, good news in my ongoing battle with the front crawl. I had a go at bilateral breathing this week, and by Jove! I think I have struck on the secret. I don’t know why I haven’t been breathing on both sides up until now but after the first length I was a convert. I seem to get a better rhythm and more consistent breathing rate. There is a lot of work still to do but I am traveling in the right direction.

Just like my dog

It has been a bit of an uneventful week since the Larmer tree race eight days ago so I am not going to waste too much internet for this instalment of my self-indulgent discursive.

I rested a bit at the beginning of the week but I have been quite surprised with how little damage the race had actually done. I was back in my trainers after two days, though admittedly the first run was a short jog on the treadmill. I probably would have spent longer but as activities go dreadmill running is a bit dull compared with the real thing. I also ran a pretty decent Parkrun time on Saturday without a problem.

I added another couple of kilometres to my swim distance tally. Breathing is getting better with my front crawl but it can’t be right as I start to feel breathless after one length and need to swim a recovery length of breast stroke to get some air back inside my chest. I think I have self-taught all I can for this little problem, there are only so many youtube videos and help forums you can consume before you need to seek professional help.

We went kayaking yesterday, the weather was not terrible and tides suited an early start (which I prefer). My race partner and I took her K1’s because my boat would have been a handful on the tideway, I was mostly in the Hobby and she took her Talisman. We were also accompanied by the K2 crew who had their own attempt at the DW with me in 2013. The crew had split up this time each taking the stoker seat of different plastic touring K2's with a new paddle partner up front in the pilots seat.

We mostly stuck together but despite having twice as many blades in the water the glass K1’s were so much quicker than the graceless K2’s. I found myself playing a game of waiting for the two plastic barges to get a good distance ahead, then sprinting to catch and overtake them, then lying in wait for them to pass again. Thinking about it, this is a similar game that that's my dog plays when he is running off his lead with slowcoach me.

Larmer Tree 20

First off, gym news. I’ve been swimming. While I am a good swimmer, I can’t breathe when doing front crawl and I eventually have to stop or drown. I was focusing specifically on my breathing technique last week and neither stopped or drowned. Good news for the triathlon I have coming up, I just need to practice.

Swimming is not really what this week’s blog is going to be about though. It is all about the aches I have today. My hinges seem to be suffering the worst, knees and (strangely) my elbows hurt, my ankles are also trying to be noticed over the general holistic din of pain going on. I make it sound bad, but this is the good pain that you get after a race.

Yesterday was an early start to get to the Rushmore Estate for White Star’s Larmer Tree 20. Last year I took part in my first WSR event here at the Larmer Tree (it was the Half for me in 2015) and had such an amazing time that I knew I had to come back. It is difficult to explain why WSR create such an enjoyable experience, they just do everything you would expect from an event company excellently, with a dash of humour thrown in. Oh, and the medals are quite nice too. Go and find one of their events, I promise you won’t be disappointed.

What first caught my attention with the Larmer was the half marathon medal, it is a pretty piece of race bling and one of my favouites in my collection, but they also run a 20 mile and full marathon at the Larmer so I obviously had to come back again to get the next medal in the series. The idea of doing 20 miles a year ago seemed ridiculous to me, but I seem to have got over that particular mental hurdle since then and I was really looking forward to the race yesterday. The weather was perfect, the going was good to soft (with one exception where my trainer got stuck in a 5 metre section of claggy mud and I ended up hopping rather pathetically trying to not get my sock muddy) and I was feeling fast.

The race didn’t start perfectly for me mind you… After setting off from the back of the pack (as my friend was stuck in the queue for the loos) I then realised after about 500 metres or so that I had the car keys and that my wife would kill me if she couldn’t get into the car for the four or so hours I expected to be out running, I had to dash back to hand them over. Minor crisis averted we then settled into the race properly. It was long, and there were some big hills which were tough on the calves.

At about the half way mark my friend was beginning to struggle with a long standing injury and she made me go on ahead fearing that I was being held up.

While I was able to run on, there were still a lot of long stretches of walking, frustratingly up inclines that I would have run earlier in the day and trying to spur the legs back to running after a period of plodding was always tough.

I took my Polaroid Cube on a selfie stick on a bit of a whim. I wasn't convinced that it would take any good video when running but the human arm does a surprisingly good job (most of the time) of dampening the jogging motion, and I have some surprisingly good footage which I will edit into something at some point.

4 hours 18 minutes to cover approximately 34 kilometres was not bad considering the hills, and cider at the penultimate feed station (Oh, That’s another reason to love WSR). I think I’ll have to come back next year to finish the set and get the Marathon medal.