Through lockdown I’ve tried to keep to Windfarm Wednesday. This is a ride out to Eaglesham wind farm on the Southside of Glasgow on a Wednesday. Unless it’s raining in which case it’s wind farm Thursday. Or, because it’s Scotland in the summer, Windfarm Maybe Next Week When The Rain Finally Stops.

Now that the clocks are going back I will need to pause Windfarm Wednesday until the Spring, assuming that we’ll still be working from home, which, given current conditions, is a safe an assumption as Donald Trump will lie when he opens his mouth.

I will miss Windfarm Wednesday because it’s been the first time in six years that I’ve had the chance to consistently ride outside during the week. Normally I’d be commuting to and from Larbert and would only get the occasional chance to head out between arriving home and dinner and dog walking and all the other things we need to do at night. Instead, I would try and grab 45 minutes on an indoor bike before the evening overtakes me.

Having the chance to spend at least one night a week outside has been fantastic and has provided a good break from lockdown life as it allowed me to not become too insular by living and working from home 24 hours a day. Instead, it’s an escape to flee the city and, most importantly, to find new places and visit parts of Scotland I’ve never been before, even if only an hours distance from my house.

Over the last six months I’ve tried to explore new routes but to always pass the windfarm on the way out or the way back. It’s good to have a target – the Windfarm – but the journey changes every week.

Over the winter I hope to flip this approach to the long nights and not fall into an easy routine on the indoor bike as the journey doesn’t change: the bike doesn’t even move.

Instead I’m going to try various simulated climbs and try a new one each week through Zwift and other apps so while my journey may not change each week then at least I’ll always have a different target.

Last week I shared a few tips and handy links about winter swimming. You can find it here: Introduction to winter swimming.

This week I share one tip to help you acclimatise and train to love the cold. If you want to know what swimming in winter is like then just do this – headbutt a tub of ice cream. Easy!

A couple of week ago I had to attend a first aid course. The course covered all the major topics – sprains, injuries etc. but it also covered some unusual topics.

I have to admit I have never thought what would be in my top 10 communicable diseases BUT that’s because it’s so hard to pick a favourite. I love ebola but COVID is so hot right now…decisions…decisions…what to put as number 1?!

The instructor of the course tried to keep it light hearted but in doing so he did come out with some cracking phrases like his introduction to the course: “Blood, guts and gore are your bread and butter but first let’s get these gory pictures on the go!”

He then went on to show some gory pictures. One of which he was very proud of. It was a puncture wound. It looked sore. I know he was proud of it because when he put it up on screen he said “I’m very proud of this one”. Although, now I think about it, maybe it was the wound he was proud of not the picture.

He then showed a few more pictures. which he introduced by gleefully shouting, “gory picture time! gory picture time!”

To pass the course I have to demonstrate on video how to give CPR. I was thinking I’d use a pillow to demonstate on. He said “don’t use a pillow find something interesting instead like a teddy bear”

I now have a vision of him sitting at home watching a video of me giving CPR whilst he gleefully shouts, “teddy bear time! Teddy Bear time!”

If you want to know the first signs of hypothermia then here’s a video of me trying to eat a Twix after 90 minutes of cycling in zero degrees in just a short sleeved t-shirt. I’m wearing three layers of clothes to warm up and I still look like this:

Now, try to imagine swimming when you can’t control your body. Grim – and dangerous.

I normally stop swimming in October, once the water temperature falls below 12 degrees, and will only try a few quick dips until April. While I like the ‘shock’ of cold water I don’t like the ‘reward to travel’ ratio as it shrinks considerably in winter months. Why do I want to travel for an hour or more just to spend five minutes in the water? Instead I could walk to my bath and sit on some icecubes for five minutes and still have time to read a good book by an open fire?!?!

For anyone considering longer swims in winter than I thought it would be helpful to share a few links on how to prepare, what to expect and what to do if you get too cold – or, worse, get hypothermia and can’t eat a Twix. The links are below but if I had any tips to share these would be them:

• Never swim alone
• Swim for less time than you think you would comfortably manage
• Never swim alone
• Keep to the edge, the water will be much colder the deeper you get
• Never swim alone
• If in doubt, don’t get in or, if you are in, get out.
• Never swim alone

And for more on hypothermia.

I was told before I swam outdoors for the first time that the best thing I should do is to splash my forehead with water. 

This seemed like terrible advice. The last thing I want to do before swimming in open water is to splash my forehead with water because… well, the water is BLOODY FREEZING!!! Firemen don’t set themselves on fire before tackling a burning blaze so why do swimmers have to freeze before they jump in??!

But cold water it was.

Or at least it was in May in Scotland: the water had only started to reach 10 degrees aka Highland Tropical.

Below 10 degrees, if you’re going for a dip, you need balls of steel – and toes of steel and feet of steel and basically an entire body made from a metal that doesn’t know how to gasp. Above 10 degrees and you can start to consider a paddle, just as long as you don’t dip your head below the surface as otherwise it’s instant brain freeze, faster than sticking an ice lolly up your nostrils.

But the thing is, you adjust to it. The more you do it, the easier it gets. It’s an ice lolly this week, next week it’s a three bar heater. The more you swim outside. the more your body adjusts to the temperature until eventually your skinny dipping in Ben & Jerry’s and wondering why it’s so warm.

First, you have to go in. And the first dip is always the hardest. The water runs down your back. You’re slapped in the face with an ice cube and you lose all feeling in your feet and toes.

If you’re really unlucky, the shock of the cold, causes you body to contract and it feels like Mr Freeze is hugging you, and not in a good way. In a “I’m going to crush your chest coz I’m a strong supervillain type” way.

However, next time, it get’s easier. And the time after that you’re Mr Freeze’s equal. You’re Kettleman! The only man who can make Mr Freeze disappear!

But first you’ve got to get in. So, I splashed my forehead with water and got in the loch. It was freezing. And it was fantastic. And one day I might get my feeling in my feet back.

Mark the day. Sunday 27 September 2020. That was the day I started to ride away from the house for a cycle round Renfrewshire and, before I got a mile away I turned round, rode home and picked up full length gloves and an extra jacket. Brrrrrr. It’s getting cold!

Now the cold should be good training for Celtman but I can see from my training this month that I’m starting to do more indoor rides rather than heading outside. I think October will see that accelerate along with the last of any serious swims (anything longer than 10 mins!).

The water temperature is falling too. I didn’t think of starting a swim in skins this month but I did manage to finish a few swims with a five minute dip without a wetsuit at the end of a swim. I then spent the rest of the night trying to warm up. Baby, it’s cold outside… and in the water.

Part 1 can be found here https://twinbikerun.com/2020/09/15/running-the-lairig-ghru-part-1-iain/

The Laig Ghru route (not race) start in Linn of Dee and ends in Coylumbridge. As you can see on the map, the route doesn’t pass many shops. A shop is the most important thing I look for when doing a long run. I never know when I might want a Twix.

I packed a Twix in my backpack…and a second Twix just in case one wasn’t enough.

The first part of the run was relatively straightforward but there was one river crossing. The water was quite deep so I took my shoes off and waded it through it bare foot. I’d rather put wet feet into dry shoes than get my shoes and feet wet.

There was a bothy about half way along the route. I thought they were all closed due to CoVid but the door was wide open. I was wet and cold so I quite happily took the opportunity to dry off for 10 minutes and eat my Twix.

It was wet when I left but I was hopeful the sun would come out once we got to the Aviemore side.

I wish I could say the views in the valley are amazing but it was so wet and grey their wasn’t much to see.

Towards the top of the route I came to the boulder fields. This is a 1KM section of fallen rocks. It’s very easy to navigate. Just keep going straight along the valley. None of the boulders are big but you hurt yourself if you trip.

The sun came out as I reached the Aviemore side. It’s much easier to run this part. The paths is better and it’s all downhill.

I was told this part was the most beautiful section and it is… for a little while. I can only run through a beautiful forest for so long before I start thinking – will this forest ever end? I’d like to see something else other than trees!

The last section is along the road into Aviemore to the Police Station. Which is not the most scenic finish in the world. Unless you like 1980’s style office block.

That wasn’t the true finish. I then had to walk half a mile to get the car. When I reached it my watch said Id done 49.9KM. I was so tired I didn’t bother doing the extra .1 to get to 50K.