Months ago, I signed up to a team-relay triathlon being held on the Glasgow 2014 Commonwealth Games course in Strathclyde Park. Yes, I understood that the purpose of the event was to test the course out and I thought it would be a great opportunity. The distances were short, so I thought I'd just rock up at the end of a normal week of heavy training and pootle round.
I'm now laughing hysterically at my total lack of foresight. Especially as the briefing pack arrived this week and I read through the most official set of rules for any event I've ever entered. The laughing was interspersed with hyperventilating - heart rate monitor was off the scale at the mere thought of it.
Along with our Lomond Masters team are 10 other teams and more officials than you can shake a stick at. Even our families have to apply for accreditation just to come and watch.
There's a couple of things that are giving me sleepless nights, and it's not the multiple opportunities to gain time penalties for a whole raft of misdemeanours! Firstly, when we gather in the briefing room, 'an official will lead us out onto the pontoon to be introduced to the spectating crowd.' I know what Usain Bolt and Mo Farah do in these situations but what should we do? Secondly, the race starts with a dive from the pontoon. Oh man, that's the bit that really gets my heart pumping. As life skills go, diving isn't one of them. In triathlon you just plop into the water and go. Not much chance of that with 10 others and a starting pistol. Will it be a case of smackdown, lose my goggles, lose my direction, never come back up or will I bottle it and hold my nose and jump in? I've checked out a few of the starting line -up and they're fast, really fast. Next it's the get out of your wetsuit and mount the bike for a 'technical' ride. I can see the pointy helmet brigade, with shoes already clipped into pedals, racing out of T1. At least we all get a Glasgow 2014 Invitational Triathlon Medal, now that'll have a tale attached to it. In years to come when I'm in my rocking chair, knitting jumpers and they ask: "Granny, where you in the Commonwealth Games?....."
Our team, with a combined age of @160, will turn up next week, clad in tri-suits, exclusively designed by Aldi and with a mission focus.
This is not for us - it's for the nation.
Alistair & Jonny - we're checking it out and will report back. If that pontoon's too high to dive safely, if the water's too cold or the bike course too technical, don't worry, we'll let the officials know.
Meanwhile, this impending ordeal has forced me into the loch for the first time this week. I've been studiously avoiding it because of the temperature. I spent hours of my life frozen in that loch last year and I wasn't going back in until we'd reached double figures. I don't think Wednesday was double figures, it was cold, but do-able for about 15-20 minutes. Not sure I'd fancy diving in though - the cold shock would be a killer!
Another little question has been troubling me too. How will I run a marathon at the end of the Ironman swim and bike?
I did a 14-mile run after school on Friday evening, came home, re-fuelled with a tasty (!?) protein shake, pizza and a glass of red wine. Crashed out for 8-hours sleep, got up and cycled 62 miles in pouring rain, quickly peeled off my bike shoes and ran for 30-mins. Now my legs were feeling pretty weary on the bike. I couldn't face a long out and back so chose two-laps of the Rosneath Peninsula, which is pretty hilly - so is Bolton - so perfect training ground. I was on my own for the first lap and battled the 'I really can't be bothered to do this today'. Met IronPhil for lap 2, a bit of chat livened me up. But by the end, home could not come fast enough. I cursed the fact that we live at the top of a hill. But when I set off on the run my legs were well and truly done in. They soon found their running stride but I felt like an Octogenarian. I wanted a big sign on my back saying: 'My Ferrari legs are in the garage.'
No-one in their right minds would start a marathon feeling like that. On the day, will it be one long sufferfest of put one foot in front of the other and repeat for 26.2 miles; or will I find the pace I'm capable of running at?
One thing's for sure - over the last 21 weeks of training, the part of me that has consistently become stronger and tougher is my mind. I have discovered how much my mind can make my body do. How I can drag myself out of bed to train at 5:30am, even though I'm struggling to bend down to put socks on. How I can shut out physical discomfort and carry on. So, if the marathon is going to be as tough as I think, from the start, then so be it. I will hopefully, keep calm and carry on.
No comments:
Post a Comment