Giant Steps.

I did my marathon last week and found myself surprisingly fast. I really wish I’d have pushed harder from the start instead of tentatively pacing myself. Lots of 8.15- 8.30 M/Ms, with which I was both pleased and surprised.

On Wednesday I got an early dart from work so introduced myself to my tri club at the run training session.  Apparently they normally get you to run a few K (they work in French, I think in minute/ miles, so that’s a bugger) then scientifically work out your run speeds for different levels of work out. As I had a recent marathon time for them to play with they just paired me up with an ultra runner (Jim, who does 30, 50 and 100 mile runs) and used his times.

After the warm up, it was things like: Run 400m at X pace, jog 400m, repeat. Then run 1K at X pace, etc.

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Condition. I haz one.

I can only apologise for my last blog. I read it back the next day and I sound like a total arsehole. It’s taken me a while to work through it but I think I have it. I have a condition, one of the aspects of which is low self esteem. Which is all well and good and you’d think it would keep me from being an dick. However, as it’s not something of which I’m consciously aware, I don’t factor it into knock-on judgements.

It bothers me people making a fuss because I don’t think anything I can achieve is that praiseworthy. I actually get angry at people for saying they couldn’t. That is the knock-on effect. I can do it, and I’m shit, so anyone who doesn’t do better is taking the piss. Which leads to me advising noobs on a triathlete forum “If you eat at every feed station, you can do it.”  Bad advice and belittling the heroic failures of some people. 

Anyway. I have to bear it in mind. I’ll have to try and accept praise without anger and big up other people’s achievements. It’s got to be better than being the arsehole who wrote that last blog.

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Warm-down.

I’ve had some really amusing conversations of late. Not humorous, so don’t expect LOLs. Just amused me.

Some guy at work as I was getting changed out of my bike gear, got chatting about how he was a pushbiker. I said it was killing me getting my fitness back. The first time I rode 56 miles then ran 13 miles on day one.

“YOU RODE 56 MILES?”

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Grit ‘til you’re fit.

Things are looking up on the training front.

As I keep saying, I started from a position of no runs for 5 months, no rides or swims for 4 years, on January the second. Despite missing whole weeks of training due to work battering me with hours, I got it up to 20 miles run. On the bike, I’ve been doing turbo sessions and top gear rides, to and from work, but hadn’t actually tried out a long ride. To be honest, the horror of that first ride to work in January was still hanging over me and I was a bit reluctant, scared even, to set off. Also we’ve had massively untypical freezing weather, which didn’t entice.

Anyway, it was mild on Friday and I needed to know where I was up to on the ride. I set off for Wales. Turns out the mild was in sheltered bits, it was blowing a gale. I managed 20  miles into the teeth of it then turned around. The wind was so bad, and so focused in one direction, that I rode up the long, steep drag out of Frodsham still in the saddle, on my aero bars. On the way out I was actually having to pedal to keep my speed up going down the damn thing.

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Bar Raising.

I’ve only been training for 10 weeks, after 4 years away from swimming and biking, and 5 months away from running. Today I did a 20 mile run. It was hellish, but I did it. A bad, painful 20 miles, is still 20 miles.

The reason (I think) it was so terrible is actually a good thing.  I was at the gym last week and a tri geezer came on and jumped on the tri exercise bike (spin bike thing). I was on the treadmill at the time but I was watching him out of the corner of my eye to pick up tips. Position and such looked just as uncomfortable for him, but what I noticed was he was going really slowly. I jump on, put it in a fairly tough gear and grind out a half hour or hour. He maxed the gear and slowly forced the pedals around.  That got me thinking back to when I was good on a bike. When we were teenagers and we’d nip to Wales for the afternoon we just stuck it in tenth gear and went.

*lightbulb*

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