Tag Archives: triathlon

Andrew

The one with jellyfish in it (Andrew)

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Some people get survival tips from a TV adventurer Bear Grylls. A man who hides his luxury caravan hidden just out of shot. Other people get their tips from Ray Mears, a man who tries to avoid being bitten by snakes but whose very name is an anagram of “Ar! My Arse!”

Me, I get my survival tips from 90s sitcom Friends.

There’s not many 90s sitcoms that you can turn to for survival tips. Frasier could help you charm a maître-d. Only Fools & Horses would warn you about the dangerous lack of support in wine bars. But only Friends could help you in the wild, and by wild, I mean beach. And, by beach, I mean tourist beach, with lifeguards and flags to warn you before you go for a swim. Also ice cream. And cocktails. And a lounger and free towels. 

In Friends, six friends, hence the title of the programme, in case you’ve not seen it, go the beach. One of the friends is stung by a jellyfish and another of the friends suggests they, ahem, relieve themselves on the spot where it stings as, ahem, urine, ahem, is a cure for jelly fish stings…

Now, you have to ask yourself how this cure was first discovered. Who’s first thought was “I know, let’s piss on it!” and, having found success in combatting jellyfish, did they try and expand?

“I have a headache, does anyone have any aspirin?”

“No need, I know what to do – let’s stand on a chair and piss on your head!”

“I’ve broken my leg, can someone call an ambulance?”

“Save yourself a phone call – I’ve got a better idea – let’s piss on it!”

In Friends that’s exactly what they do. They piss on the friend with the jellyfish sting and, lo and behold, the friend is cured. Or at least I think that’s what happens. I’ve not seen this episode in years so I can’t absolutely say that there is an episode of Friends where five friends form a circle and piss on the sixth. I can imagine that happening in Seinfeld, but somehow it doesn’t seem right for Friends. Perhaps they all did it into a cup and then it was poured on delicately.

Anyways, whether circle pished or applied from a potty pot, that episode of Friends stuck in my mind and I’ve always known what to do when a jellyfish stings. Fortunately, I’ve never had to put this into practice as I’ve never been stung by a jellyfish. Until now…

I thought I would be during Norseman. I even grew a beard to protect my face. (I say beard, it was more bum fluff with ambition). A beard stops the jellyfish from stinging. But, the beard wasn’t necessary as there was something else that stopped the jellyfish from stinging: cold fresh water. It was too cold and not salty enough for jellyfish in the fjords.

Celtman is a different story. There are thousands of jellyfish in the swim section and all race reports talk about swimming through them.

Luckily, unfortunately, in my first sea swim since entering Celtman I had a chance to experience a jellyfish sting. I was swimming off South Beach in Miami (which, with its loungers, cocktails, warm water and dusky heat is ideal training for the cold sharp Scottish water of Celtman) when I felt small electric shocks along my arm. I knew I was stung but I wasn’t sure by what. I could feel an itchiness and knew I had to swim back to shore and speak to the lifeguard but all I could think was “Is he going to piss on it?”

I’d seen Friends, I knew what happened next.

I climbed the lifeguards’ tower, showed him my arm, now turning blotchy red, and said “I think I’ve been stung.”

He said “It’s a jellyfish, let me get something for that.”

And he grabbed a bottle.

While part of me thought how good it was that he prepared for this emergency by bottling himself in advance, another part of me thought “Please let it be something else, please let it be anything else”.

“It’s vinegar,” he said, spraying the liquid on my outstretched arm.

I sniffed.

I smelt chips.

I realized I was the chips.

It was vinegar.

Vinegar is a cure for jellyfish.

Thank you, Jesus!

Now I can tell Iain he doesn’t need a special water bottle to help at transition or that the only place he can go to the toilet is my left arm. Instead, along with the gels, energy bards and high energy drinks, he just needs a bottle of Saxo vinegar – filled with pish.

Iain

Are you an athlete or an app-lete? (Iain)

Today I rode to work. It was very cold. By the end of the ride I couldn’t feel my feet.

Winter in Scotland isn’t like other countries. They have consistent winters. It gets cold. It stays cold. Spring arrives. You can rely on it.

In Scotland, winter arrived on Monday, went away on Tuesday and came back on Wednesday. This is annoying. One day I need winter clothes but the next day was summer clothes.

Planning training is difficult as I don’t know what the weather will throw at me.

Previous winters I’d train like an athlete. Or my vision of how an athlete trains.

  • Go outdoors no matter what the condition are; and
  • laugh at anyone in a long sleeve t-shirt. Winter training should be done in the same kit as summer

This winter I’m going to train like an app-lete: indoors with a computer app telling me what to do.

The two main systems are https://www.trainerroad.com/ and https://zwift.com/.

I tried both and I chose Trainerroad. I could describe in depth how they both work, and how I made my decision, but its actually quite straightforward.

Zwift has a social aspect where you can see and hear other people as they train. Whilst using Zwift I heard one man say to his friends: “Go hard on the hill, we can regroup at the top”.

THERE IS NO HILL! IT’S A GAME! YOU DON’T NEED TO REGROUP. NONE OF YOU ARE GOING ANYWHERE. YOU’RE ALL AT HOME IN YOUR ‘PAIN CAVES’ AKA THE SPARE ROOM WHERE YOUR PARTNER COMPLAINS ABOUT THE SMELL OF SWEAT.

I thought “what a twat” and I’ve used Trainerroad ever since!

Andrew

Celtman 2017 (Andrew)

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I’d entered the ballot for Norseman and Celtman but only wanted one to succeed. I want to do Norseman again, but not next year. It’s too soon. But, because it’s a ballot, and I won’t get to choose if I’m lucky enough to enter it again, I entered anyway, to build up my chances in future years. Luckily, I didn’t get in.

However, Celtman was the race I wanted to enter. I’d seen the very first race on BBC Scotland’s The Adventure Show and I’ve always wanted to do it. After Norseman I didn’t fancy another race abroad so Celtman was my first choice. I just had to hope I’d be lucky in the ballot.

I got the email mid-afternoon. I read it. It said “You are in the race!.” and I thought: “Why has it got a full stop after the exclamation mark?”. Then it said “Please read the whole of this message very carefully”. And I thought: “I have and, really, why has it got a full stop after the exclamation mark?”.

It’s strange the things you think of when dream come true. Neil Armstrong probably thought: “Have I switched the oven off?” when he landed on the moon.

It takes a second or two for the reality to hit. I was in.

Ironically, and just like last year when I heard about Norseman, I’m injured at the moment. A twinge. A dodgy right hip. A few weeks of rest to take care of it. This week I started running and cycling again. A run through some trails north of Aviemore and 10 miles on the turbo, which have now become the first run and the first ride towards Celtman 2017!

Iain

Dumgoyne run (Iain)

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What dick would park his car and block a remembrance parade?

The brass band couldn’t get past it. The people watching and remembering couldn’t stand next to the graves.

Seriously, who would do that?

It definitely wasn’t me!

<I look round, wait till everyone leaves, get in car then drive off>

In my defence – the ‘no parking’ sign was only put up after I’d parked. I’d left my car while I ran up a local hill. When I came back, not only was my car in the way, but I was also the only one covered in mud while wearing a bright yellow fluorescent running jacket. I assume everyone guessed the car was mine…

It was a good run but I tweaked my hamstring on the way down. I’ve taken it easy this week and stuck to yoga, walking and not blocking solemn ceremonies.

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Iain

A short history of my bikes – part 7 (Iain)

Bike 7 is a summer bike which in Scotland means it’s used once a year!

It’s a Planet X Nanolight with super light carbon wheels. Its the fastest and most expensive bike I’ve ever owned which means it spends most of its time in doors as i’m too afraid to get it dirty.

I currently have it set up on a turbo trainer. Its my cuddle closet! See https://norseman2016.wordpress.com/2016/10/11/welcome-to-my-pain-cave-andrew/

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Last winter, I did my turbo sessions following a strict schedule…a TV schedule.

My training regime was

Hard Session – Channel 4’s Location, Location, Location.

Medium Session – Grand Designs.

Easy Session – George Clarke’s Amazing Spaces

I didn’t get any better at biking but I can now design my own home.

This year I’m taking training seriously. My aim is to beat Andrew at the Caledonian Etape. A feat I’ve never managed.

So I’m going to investigate Zwift (https://zwift.com/)and Trainerroad (https://www.trainerroad.com/) the two leading turbo training software companies to see which is the best home trainer. I’ll report back next time unless I get distracted working on the blueprints of my dream home!

Iain

A short history of my bikes – part 6 (Iain)

I ask the man at the local bike shop. “I’d like to buy a bike to commute to work?”

“What type of bike are you looking for?”

“One which is so boring that nobody would ever want to steal it!”

“I have just the bike for you…”

Bike 7 was a Ridgeback velocity. There was nothing interesting about it at all until it was stolen from outside my work.

I thought the bike was safe – it was boring, it was parked in front of a security camera and it was locked.

I don’t know who stole the bike or how they got through the lock because when security reviewed the camera footage they could only see cobwebs and spiders. It seems when they bought the camera they didn’t realise just how appealing the casing covering it would be to eight legged creatures!

I thought I’d never see the bike again but about six months later I was jogging past a railway station when I spotted it chained to a bike rack.

It couldn’t be my bike. Could it?

I checked and it looked the same. It had the same mud guards, the same mark across the frame that mine had and it had mountain bike pedals. The same as I’d put on.

It had to be mine!

I called the police and asked them what to do. They sent two officers who waited at the bike for the thief to return.

A few hours later I got a call asking me to come back to the bike. When I got there they were standing with a man who looked similar to me. That man said the bike was his.

The police checked his story and it turned out he

  1. Worked in a university. Just as I do.
  2. Bought the bike on the cycle scheme.  Just like I had.
  3. Went to the same bike shop as I had.
  4. Added the same mud guards as I had.
  5. Added the same mountain bike pedals as I had.
  6. Had the same mark across the frame as it was a design flaw in the bike.
  7. But unlike me he had a serial number for the bike so the bike shop could confirm it was his.

I never saw my bike again. The most boring of bikes had the most interesting of endings!

Iain

A short history of my bikes – part 5 (Iain)

There’s one quote I live my life by:

“If at first you don’t succeed… make sure no-one else finds out!” 

Unfortunately I told lots of people about (failing to) ride a stage of the Tour de France. https://norseman2016.wordpress.com/2016/10/24/a-short-history-of-my-bikes-part-4-iain/ 

That didn’t put me off attempting it again the next year. This time, I didn’t tell anyone!

Andrew wanted to ride his own bike but I decided to hire one so like a pauper at a whorehouse I paid for one ride only. This was bike 6. This was the first and only time I rode it.

The stage was a loop starting and ending in the Beautiful french town of Annecy. It had never been used as a Tour de France stage before so there was no information other than this map.

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On the way to the start – Andrew got a puncture! Was this a sign of drama come ? Unfortunately – yes! It wouldn’t be the last time that day I’d be stuck by the side of a road repairing Andrew’s bike.

The initial section was flat and easy as it winds it way along Lake Annecy. The weather was nice and sunny so we made good progress. The first climb was a steady incline but we felt good as we reached the summit of Col de Leschaux.

After this point the road widened so we rode side by side. Occasionally Andrew would drop behind me. I didn’t worry about it as he would appear again a few minutes later but just before the next climb Andrew dropped back and then didn’t reappear!

I stopped and waited. Hundreds of riders passed me but there was no sign of Andrew.

Eventually he turned up. His gears were broken. The chain was consistently slipping off. I tried to fix it but the problem persisted. Someone else stopped to help but they couldn’t fix it either.

Andrew decided to wait for a motorbike mechanic. I decided to head on.

The rest of the race was hard. The two climbs were long and there was barely any shade from the hot sun. On one climb I was going as fast as I could but I still got passed by a Frenchman wearing sandals on a bike with a basket full of his shopping! Lance Armstrong was right when he said – its not about the bike!

I completed the stage and received my medal. It felt good but it would have been better to finish with Andrew.

Andrew was waiting for me when I got back to the Hotel. His race had been ended by the mechanical problem. The mechanic had been unable to resolve it.

If every cloud has a silver lining then Andrews would be geting back in enough time to see Andy Murray play the Wimbledon final. The one he won!

Unfortunately his cloud had no silver lining. It was thunderbolts and lightning.  The hotel wasn’t showing the tennis so he had to sit bored out of his mind waiting for me instead!

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Iain

A short history of my bikes – part 4 (Iain)

One of my ambitions in life is to appear on Channel 4’s Grand Designs. I know I’ll die happy if Kevin Macleod looks at my plan to self-build an eco-pyramid with an underground swimming pool and says: “Well, I admire your ambition!”

One of my other ambitions was to do a stage of the Tour De France. In 2012 Andrew and I signed up for “Le Tour D’etape”  a closed road sportive held every year on a stage of the Tour de France. It was a tough mountainous stage that would challenge the best cyclists. People train for years to get to the level required. I had six months and I didn’t own a road bike.

So, I purchased Bike 4. A cycle to work scheme road bike. I knew very little about bikes so I didn’t check out what gears it had – or even attempt to ride it beforehand. I bought it because I liked the colour.

All we knew about the route was this map.

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The stage is 197KM from Pau to Bagnères-de-Luchon over 2 Haute Categories climbs and two Cat 1 climbs. The only cat I knew about goes “miaow” so the terms meant very little to me. But, I now know HC means “holy crap – how can this road keep going up!”

Over the next 6 months we trained harder than we’d ever trained before. Looking back I can see it wasn’t even close to how hard we should have trained.

At the start of race we hoped for the best but expected the worst.We positioned ourselves in the start pen for slower riders. This was a mistake as the sweeper van leaves as soon as the last pen leaves. The slowest riders, the ones who need the most time, are the ones who get the least time.

I started cycling but disaster struck as I crossed the start line  – my pump fell off! I had to stop and go back for it. The sweeper van waited as I picked it up. I was nearly swept up before I’d even got going!

I restarted and crossed the start line successfully. Andrew hadn’t stopped so it took a while to catch up. The first section to the base of Col D’Aubesque was fine. Our speed was ok. We then hit the climb….and it the road went up and up and up and….

It took us over two hours of climbing to get to the top. It was the hardest biking I’d ever done. What did we find at the top? Nothing! The weather was so wet and cold we couldn’t see anything. Which was annoying as the previous day had been beautifully sunny and warm.

The ride down the hill was torture. I’d never free wheeled for such a long distance. The lack of moving meant my hands and body were freezing cold. By the time we reached the bottom I was F**KED!

No time for a rest as we now had to start the long climb of Tourmalet. Unfortunately the sweeper wagon wasn’t far behind us.

We did our best but got swept up on Tourmalet. If a picture paints a thousand words then this picture sums up my Etape experience.

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Looking back I can see where we went wrong – lack of fitness, preparation and knowledge but there’s one thing you can’t fault:  if asked I’m sure Kevin McLeod  would have said “Well, I admire your ambition!”

Iain

A short history of my bikes – part 3 (Iain)

I’m at the start line of my first ever bike sportive. I look at the other riders. They’re all using road bikes. I’m on Bike 3 – a mountain bike. Oh dear – I’m the only one using a mountain bike.

It gets worse. Everyone else is wearing skin tight lycra. I have my winter jacket (as it’s cold and wet) and a pair of baggy shorts. Everyone else has clipped-in bike shoes. I’m wearing trainers.

I’m the only person using a backpack. It contains a sandwich, a 2 litre bottle of water and a map in case I get lost. It’s quite heavy.

I turn to my friend Malcolm, who’s also doing race. “I’ll be fine,” I say, “all bikes are the same!” Andrew is also here but he’s not biking. He’s acting as support in a van.

The race starts. All the other bikes pass including Malcolm. I realise all bikes are not the same. A road bike goes significantly faster than a mountain bike.

After 35 miles I reach the big climb on the route called “Bealach Na Ba.” It’s one of the few roads in Scotland that’s similar to mountain passes in the Alps, with very tight hairpin bends that switch back and forth rising from sea level to 626 metres.

I’ve never biked more than 20 miles before and I’d certainly never gone up a hill like this. Thankfully the mountain bike gears mean I overtake some people on the hill but, from the halfway point, I struggle to turn my pedals. I get off and push.

At the top I discover a film crew waiting for me. They’re filming for BBC Two Scotland’s The Adventure Show. The reporter approaches me:

– I can’t believe you’re using a mountain bike!

– It’s my only bike

I take out my water bottle to have a swig.

– You carried that all the way up the mountain?

– Yes. I thought I’d get thirsty.

– You do know the organisers supply water and food at regular stops?

I thought I had to supply everything myself! D’OH!!

The descent of the other side is great. Six miles of downhill with treacherous corners. At one corner an ambulance is tending to a rider. I think to myself how glad I am that it’s not me.

At the bottom of the hill I reach Andrew. I decide to quit the race. There’s 40 miles to go but I’m done in! I’ve achieved my race by cycling further and higher than ever before but there is no chance I’ll complete the race before the cut-off time.

We head to the finish to wait for Malcolm…and we wait…and we wait…and we….

As it gets dark there’s no sign of Malcolm. I approach the race organisers and ask if they have seen him. They go to check their list of riders. When they come back they have bad news – Malcolm was the man I passed on the mountain who was getting tended to by the ambulance.

The news gets worse. He’s been taken to hospital.The news gets even worse! The hospital isn’t in Inverness, which is close by and on our way home but Broadfoot on the Isle of Skye which is miles away and nowhere near our route home.

We head to Skye to collect him. He’s broken his collarbone after his brakes failed on the corner. The bad news is he’ll be off work for six weeks. The good news is that it coincides with the Edinburgh fringe. He can spend six weeks partying! And he can use his other arm to drink pints!

Iain

A short history of my bikes – part 2 (Iain)

Identical twins — perhaps as many as one in five according to the unreliable internet article I read — claim to share a special psychic connection.

Do Andrew and I share a psychic bond? No – the only time I’ve felt pain the same time as Andrew, is when we’ve accidentally crashed into each other.

The first time I noticed this lack of a special bond was in Secondary School. We both had an after school job as Paper Boys. I used Bike 2 for my round. It was a mountain bike.

We’d hang the bag of newspapers from the handlebars of our bikes. The more papers we had to deliver the harder it was to balance the bags on the bar. Monday was the worst day as we had all the large Sunday papers to deliver as well as Monday’s.

From my paper boy perspective – there should be  a special place in hell reserved for anyone who asked me to deliver The Sunday Times. It was massive and caused me problems every week!

One of my deliveries was to my primary school P.E. teacher. She was a horrible woman. In a 30 minute classes she would let the girls play for 20 minutes whilst making the boys wait against a wall. She would then let the boys on for a few minutes before stopping the class. We got virtually no exercise.

She hated the Daily Record so I made sure that whenever her first choice of paper wasn’t there that’s what she would get instead.

Unfortunately during one of Andrew’s rounds his bag caught in his wheel throwing him off the bike. He ended up lying on the street, blood everywhere.

At the moment I did feel something. It was a pang…of hunger. It was late and I hadn’t eaten since lunchtime. Andrew went to hospital and I went home for my dinner.