This morning I swam in a lane next to a another swimmer. They were swimming at a good pace (1.40 min per 100m) and they had a water bottle from a local triathlon club. They were obviously not just a recreational swimmer.
As I swam alongside, I noticed that from above the water their stroke was excellent but below the water it looked very strange.
I couldn’t work out what it was. It just looked strange. As I swam a few more lengths I suddenly realised what it was. Their was no catch. THe hand would go into the water and would barely drag it back before lifting it straight back out again.
So this is the dilema – would you mention it to them?
Yes – I would but here’s the catch…(pardon the pun)…the swimmer was a woman.
If I pointed it out would I be accused of mansplaining.
I was so worried about this I decided to keep my opinion to myself.
The thing is – If it was a man who had been swimming then I would have mentioned it without even thinking whether I should or not!
Tyler is a Jack Russell. And a dog – except when he’s pretending to be a cat.
Tyler is my aunt and uncle’s dog. They live in a village in the Western Isles. There’s very little passing traffic so they let Tyler walk on his own. He has the run of the village.
Every night at 11 o’clock, Tyler would bark and run to the back door to be let out for a final walk before bed. 30 minutes later he’d be back. A single bark to announce his presence and my aunt and uncle would let him back into the house.
This happened every night for six months until, one day, my aunt saw a neighbour’s post on Facebook. “Does anyone know a small white and brown dog that’s been running round the village before midnight’
It could only be Tyler.
She didn’t know the neighbour that well so went round to her house to explain that Tyler was just out for a walk and to see if he’d been barking or making a noise to disturb them.
“He’s not been barking,”said the neighbour, “he’s been shagging! Our dog’s pregnant!”
No wonder Tyler was so keen on his final walk of the day. He’d been playing Romeo to some other dog’s Juliet!
“Was he sneaking into your back grden?’ Asked my aunt.
“No,” said the neighbour. “We knew our dog was in heat so we’ve been keeping her indoors.”
“Then why do think Tyler’s involved? He can’t get into a house” Asked my Aunt.
“He’s been sneaking in through the car flap! We caught them at it in the middle of the kitchen!”
My aunt was quick to apologise but it turned out that the neighbour was really only interested in finding out if Tyler was a pedigree because it turned out she had a Jack Russell too. When my aunt confirmed that Tyler was indeed a pedigree dog genetically, if not morally, the neighbour was delighted.
“Excellent, I’ll be able to sell the puppy’s for £500 each!”
And Tyler was encouraged to continue his midnight walks.
I thought of this story as I start to think about training over autumn and winter. It’s always hard to go outside when it starts to get dark and cold and wet. It’s easy to come up with excuses to skip a run or a bike ride. But dog’s don’t have that excuse. They go out in all weathers and wait patiently at the door for their chance to walk and run so we too need to take our inspiration from dogs and find our reason to always head outside. But not to have an affair with someone down the street – and definitely not to break in first! That’s not an excuse to get out of the house, that a reason for the cops to come round and encourage you to spend a lot more time inside!
How do get slower by going faster? There’s a riddle for you.
If you’re a physicist then you would probably talk about how time slows down the faster you go and you’d try and convince me that Interstellar is a great film and not a deeply silly film about a mumbling Matthew McConaughey knocking over a bookcase for three hours. If he can push books then why doesn’t he push a keypad and type out his message?! It should have been called InterTheBin.
If you’re a novelist you might say how time slows down when you’re about to get shot. That life flashes before you’re eyes and you might have some meaningful flashback or revelation. Which isn’t true. The closest I’ve got to being shot is standing on a football pitch as a mishit ball shoots straight to my groin. The only thought that went through my head was “don’t scream like a girl when it hits me!”. It did and I did. I think I still speak with a falsetto.
But in triathlon going slower by going faster describes what happens when you’re moved up a coaching group. On a Wednesday morning I’ve been quite happily swimming in the masters lane – a lane for people who swim 1 min 53 seconds per 100m or slower. There’s also a performance lane for those who swim 1 min 42 or faster.
I swim around 1 min 50 seconds which means I swim at the front of the masters but I’m not fast enough for the performance. I’m like Matthew McConaughey’s accent – neither fast nor slow but some drawl in between.
Until today.
Today I was ‘promoted’ to the Performance lane permanently. I now swim at the back of a bunch of swimmers who all swim faster than me.
I also need to swim further. As they swim faster they cover more distance in the same time as the masters lane so will swim, for example, 150m instead of 100m.
“You won’t go faster unless you swim with people who are faster than you!”
Which was nice of the coach to say but I’d never asked to go faster or further as, again like Matthew McConaughey, I’m quite happy with my limited range.
Instead I spent this morning slipping further and further behind people who could swim much faster than me and while I was going faster it sure felt like I was going an awful lot slower.
Were you nervous? I bet you worked up a sweat but you didn’t last long.
Did lots of people see you do it?
I’m talking about your first run. What do you think I was talking about?
I used to run at the gym. I would do ten minutes on the rowing machine, ten minutes on a bike and then a ten-minute run.
Which too me seemed like allot of exercise. Nowadays it sounds like a warm-up session. I remember going on a date and I was asked me what I liked to do for fun. I replied that I went to the gym.
She laughed at me and said “You go to the gym?” in a tone that can only be described as very, very doubtful!
I felt really embarrassed. Why did she think I don’t go to the Gym? I did 10 minutes on each machine! I bet that was 10 minutes more than most people.
So I vowed I would try to do more than 10 minutes but there was one problem. I got very bored in the gym. I struggled to do the ten minutes on the machines let alone try for more.
I decided to run outside instead. I lived next to a park. I vowed to run round the park. So on a sunny spring day I changed into my running gear in my flat and then procrastinated about leaving.
What if anyone I know sees me? They will point and laugh. I bet even people who don’t know me will say “look at that man trying to run. Doesn’t he look funny”
I put my clothes back on and didn’t run that day.
The next day I tried again but this time I decided to run at night. That way no one would see me.
I made it to the front door…after 30 minutes of my brain trying to convince me not to go running.
I stepped outside. I didn’t know what to do. Should I start running immediately. Should I go fast, should I go slow. Where will I run to?
I don’t remember much about the run other than I tried to avoid seeing people. Which is pretty easy in a park in the dark. Most people see a 6ft 1 inch man running towards them and avoid me rather than me having to avoid them.
It’s entirely possible to meet a complete stranger, have a five minute conversation and for both of you to speak and not say one thing to each other. Instead, you both pretend to be dogs. And talk a lot about bums. Walking a dog does that to you. Let me explain.
if you don’t have a dog then here’s what happens. You’re walking along. Minding your own business when you see another person coming towards you with their dog on a lead too. The dogs spot each other. You can see tails wagging, ears down, a silent battle of wills developing between them as they decide whether this is a dog they want to sniff or one they want to bark at instead.
“Hello,” you say.
“‘Who’s this? They say back.
But they don’t look at you, they look at your dog.
As a dog walker you know that the question is not for you. instead they’re really asking for the name of your dog.
“‘I’m Barney The Schnauzer,” you say, “and who are you?”
And they tell you but you’re not listening as Barney is sniffing the other dog’s bum and it’s time to carry on the conversation by telling them exactly what Barney is thinking.
“Oh, I like sniffing bums,” you say. And as everyone knows the routine and we’re speaking as dogs you can get away with comments like that provided you don’t add “and so does the dog!”.
Nor should you ever respond to someone saying ‘”I like sniffing bums” with a “Well, doesn’t everyone!” while staring straight into the other owners’ eyes.
But it is awkward. The bum sniffing. And trying to make it less awkward by offering a running commentary is just one way of making it seem acceptable. So, you have conversations that may include “I just can’t stop” Or, if you’re canine friend is having a particularly vigorous sniff, “This is a good bum!’
Which is a risky one. Not every owner is prepared to grade the smell of their dog’s bum, not even while pretending to be a curious Jack Spaniel. But if they go with it then you open up a whole world of conversation including:
“I love sniffing – but I don’t like being sniffed!”
Or, if you’re feeling particularly curious.
“Oooh, what’s that smell?”
Which is a phrase which is only ever acceptable if visiting a show home for sale, a spicy restaurant or if you are testing perfumes or aftershave. Everyone knows what that smell is when you sniff a bum. It’s not fresh coffee, lemongrass or Chanel Number 5.
But still you don’t break the spell by addressing the other owner directly. You’re both still pretending to be dogs. Really, really awkward and embarrassed dogs because now the bum sniffing has finished and one dog is trying to mount the other.
And both you and the other owner are frozen to inaction while you fear you are about to start a commentary track for some hardcore canine porn.
“‘I like sexy time!” you don’t say.
And you definitely don’t add “And so does my dog!”.
So, the best bit about walking a dog is that, for triathletes, who don’t want to just walk the streets because they think they should be doing something longer, you also get to cross the street again and again because you’ll do anything to avoid meeting another dog and what you thought was a twenty minute walk will actually take a hour.
You wait ages for someone to use the title “The Rise of….” and then two come along at once.
Last week I went to see Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker. I did not realise until I got to the cinema that it was an autism friendly screening.
The interior of the cinema screening was pitch dark and the room was silent. I assumed this was to provide a calming atmosphere.
I sat in darkness for a few minutes. Nothing happened but I could hear other people talking.
Then, without warning, the Star Wars theme tune came blasting out of the cinema speakers. The room stayed dark. Then there was loud explosions and laser noises but still darkness.
This to me seemed like the least autistic friendly screening imaginable.
I waited a few minutes whilst the cacophony of noise went on but then suddenly all the lights came on. An usher came out and explained that the cinema screen was broken. They explained that if we waited a few minutes, they would fix it. Now that I have seen the film, I wish they had not bothered.
The Star Wars trilogy is similar to an ulrarun. There’s good bits, there’s bad bits and the finish is rubbish. An ultra is about the experience not the ending.
In Rise of the Ultra Runners (https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07NDNCB8J/) the author Adharanand Finn travels the world investigating why people feel the need to run long distances in challenging environments.
He places himself very much into the narrative as the book follows his quest to collect enough points to get into the Ultra Tour de Mont Blanc and then actually run and finish the race.
He is an experienced (mostly road) runner who was mainly interested in speed and times. It was interesting to see how his mind-set changed when faced with challenges where the journey is more important than the destination and time.
He covers the history, personalities and his experience of ultra-running. It felt like it was a good informal history of the sport as much as his personal narrative.
There is a very interesting section on why Kenyans don’t do ultra’s even though they should be amazing at them.
I would have liked to have heard more about the training. You don’t get as good as he is at racing without hours and hours of training. Did his wife mind him training all the time? Did his kids appreciate him being away?
There is a number of interviews with ultra-runners but he never asks the question I want to know the answer to.
“What are you running from?”
Because spending that much time doing anything is usually an indication you are avoiding something!
For example I spent time writing this blog at work because I was running away from doing some proper work!
Overall – It was a good easy read. After reading his section on 24 hour track running I’m intrigued to try it myself. So give the book a go, it might inspire you to try something new too.
I studied Computing at the University of Edinburgh. I remember my first day at the University. I was informed I’d have to do a Maths course as part of my degree.
I asked “Why? I’m here to study Computing.”
The tutor replied that it was a requirement of the British Computer Society.
I said “Why? I’d rather learn something useful!”
He looked at me and said “Stop arguing. Just sign up to the Algebra course!”
At the end of the year I did the Algebra exam. I answered every single question and included my working out. I got a score of 0/30 and the tutor wrote “This shows no knowledge of Algebra what so ever!”
I finished the course with a third class honours degree. Mainly due to laziness. I hate learning a subject if it’s something I feel is irrelevant. Allot of the course was irrelevant. I was good at the things useful for a career in Computing and hopeless at the bits that wouldn’t help me get a job.
Since then, I’ve had a successful IT career and not once has anyone ever asked what I got in Uni, whether I passed algebra or whether they could they see my British Computer Society membership.
The lesson I learnt is that you don’t need to go to Uni to be successful. You just need to work hard. People will judge you on what you achieve in life, and not by what bit of paper you hold.
The actual uni building I studied in. I was in the basement!
I saw a ghost in a motel in Pennsylvania. I woke up. There was a man in a checked shirt in the room with me. He walked towards my bed, I put an arm out to stop him and he walked straight through it.
Unexpected cleaners in your bedroom at midnight don’t do walk through arms. Ghosts do.
But I don’t believe in ghosts. Instead I rationalised it by telling myself that I was jet lagged after arriving in the States earlier that day and, after driving four hours, I was tired and when I woke up I was still dreaming. It was nothing but a trick of my mind.
I also don’t believe in New Year resolutions. Unlike ghosts these are dreams that can come true – but I find them pointless. Why make a resolution on the first day of January when you are almost certainly still on holiday for, if you’re Scottish, two more days. You can’t commit to a resolution when you’re on holiday. It’s pointless. I won’t eat chocolate! But, what’s that? There’s a gigantic box of Quality Street in the cupboard and 48 hours to sit in the house and watch telly. You might as well ask a lemming to not leap off a cliff. It’s against nature not to finish a box of chocolates as soon as it’s open.
That’s why I believe in New Year + 2 days (possibly more with weekends) resolutions. This year my resolution didn’t start until Wednesday 8 January as it was new year, then the office was shut on Friday, then it was the weekend, then I was still on holiday and then I finally finished the Quality Street box and the resolutions could begin.
This year my resolution was a simple one – and an obvious one for our regular readers (hello, mum!): Complete Celtman. There’s no B-plan. No backup race. My aim is Celtman and everything else is lined to that. So, that’s meant this year’s races all help with either running, swimming or cycling training and feature no triathlons. Race will be training events for Celtman.
Recently I was browsing Instagram and I spotted this photo from the Isle of Lewis. It shows a couple walking a dog on a nice beach. It’s a nice pic.
Something about the pic seemed familiar but I couldn’t work out what. I looked at it more closely and realized that the couple in the photo are my Mum and Dad. They were walking on one of their favorite beaches – the Braighe. I doubt either of them have ever heard of Instagram or know that the photo even exists.
Braighe is an apt name for the beach as it means sandy strand in Gaelic. The sandy side of the beach is a fine sandy strand between two parts of the island.
You can swim on either side but normally the west side is calmer as it faces a protected bay.
REVIEW
Ease of Access: There are three car parks available. The middle one has toilets. It is only a 10 minute drive from Stornoway to the beach.
Water quality: The water quality is crystal clear and perfect for swimming although on a wild day it can get a bit sea weedy on the bay side.
Swim Quality: Cold. In December the temperature was 7C. I had a short swim in a circle. In the summer I’ve been here and swam the length of the beach.
Other People: Not a soul.
Would I go back: Yes. Its the easiest place to get to have a sea swim that is near my parent’s home in Stornoway. Normally one side of the beach will protected from any bad weather.
Twin brothers swimming, cycling and running in Scotland 