Tag Archives: triathlon

Iain

Norseman – The journey begins… (Iain)

The Chinese philosopher Confucius wrote “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”

The approximate distance from my house near Glasgow to Eidfjord (the Norwegian town where Norseman starts) is 1000 miles.

And I don’t step anywhere until I’ve booked a flight, arranged a hire car and reserved accommodation with AirBnB. So, forget what Confucius said, the phrase should be: a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single… mouse click.

Click  1 – Arrange a support crew. 

It’s compulsory to have a support crew. Previously I did this by myself for Andrew. That worked fine but, if I’d had to run the final leg, then the logistics would have been tricky. This time I’ll have two support crew. It’ll make it a more enjoyable day for all of us.

Click 2 – Arrange a flight

There’s two flights from Scotland to Norway. One goes from Edinburgh to Oslo, the other from Aberdeen to Bergen. Bergen is the closer to Eidfjord but Aberdeen is much further from my house. The time I’d save driving in Norway would be lost driving in Scotland. I therefore booked a flight to Oslo.

Click 3 – Arrange accommodation

Eidfjord is very small with limited accommodation but I managed to arrange an Airbnb for a small village nearby – Ovre Eidfjord. I booked a chalet in Rjukan for the finish. I’ve stayed there before. They sell great pizza on site which I’m looking forward to having after the race.

Click 4 – Train for the race

I asked Google “How do I train for Norseman?”

Google replied: “Stop sitting on your ass at the computer!! You won’t get anywhere until you step outside!”

Maybe Confucious had a point after all…

Iain

How not to swim (Iain)

Last week I attended a coached swim session. It was great. It’s much more enjoyable swimming with others than doing so by myself.

The only problem is:

  • Triathletes lie about their ability.
  • Triathletes are really competitive

I discovered this when the coach said: “I’d like you all to swim eight lengths (200m) of the pool at 70% race pace. I’ll time you. Who wants to go first?”

No one volunteered to go first.

“Come on! Who’s fastest?”

Everyone started looking at each other in the same way a lift of strangers look at each other after one person has farted. Who is it?

I looked at the man next to me. He was solid muscle. His back had the classic v-profile of an Olympic swimmer. He wore tiny Speedos that were so small and revealing they looked like they’d been tattoo’d to his crotch. His swim goggles cost more than my last car.

“Hurry up! Someone has to go first!”

The only time I’ve been mistaken for a swimmer was when a hairdresser said to me “Are you a swimmer?” I beamed with pride and replied “yes” thinking it was because of my swimmers physique – but my pride was quickly punctured when the hairdresser said “I thought so – I looked at your hair. It’s in terrible condition. It’s dry from chlorine.”

My swim shorts are run shorts. There’s no point buying one pair for running and one for swimming and it means my run shorts get a wash. My goggles are whatever I can find in the lost and of found bucket of my local pool. I am not a swimmer.

He looked at me again. It wasn’t that he was in a different league to me. It was that we aren’t even playing the same sport.

He said: “you first, mate”

I replied, “no thanks. You should definitely go first.”

He thought about it and said, “no – I think your quicker.”

So I went first. I had a five second head start. On the sixth second, he caught up.

I went as fast as I could but he kept having to stop to wait for me.

After we’d finished eight laps the coach said, “are you all happy with your time?”

The man who couldn’t have been more like a fish even if he’d had gills said, “I could have gone faster but I got help up!” Maybe if you hadn’t lied about your ability you wouldn’t have got held up. If you’re good at something it’s ok to say your good at it.

I then looked round and saw everyone else. It was like the scene at the start of Saving Private Ryan. Bodies were strewn in the water. People screaming in agony. One man looked like he’d swum himself into a heart attack.

The coach asked “Was that 70% effort?” No-one replied. They were all completely f&%ked!

At last the man having the heart attack said through wheezy, definitely non competitive, gasps of death “I think I went 65%!”

Andrew, Triathlete's Dictionary

Triathlete’s Dictionary: Rushing Roulette

Rushing Roulette
phrase

A lethal game of chance in which a cyclist decides to go for a ride without a spare inner tube.  Frequently involve rushing to leave and forgetting to replace the flat tube in your saddle bag that you absolutely meant to replace the night before. Also involves the phrase “I’m sure I’ll be alright – what’s the chances of getting a puncture?”. Phrase frequently uttered 10 miles from civilisation and 30 seconds before puncture.

Usage: “I had to walk home after a game of rushing roulette!“

Iain

2018 (Iain)

I have wee’d in Harry Potter’s author J K Rowling’s driveway. It is not my proudest moment…

Even worse than that – I met her at an event and, instead of saying, “Hi there, I really enjoy your books,” I said “Hi there, I pished on your gate.”

I told her she could use it in a book – Harry Potter and the Search for a Toilet. A book where Harry Potter has one too many Butter Beers and then tries to make it home. She’s not written it… yet…

Triathlete’s claim an IronMan is the hardest event on earth. It’s not. The hardest event on earth is trying to unlock a door, hopping from one foot to the other, whilst desperate for the loo.

Rowling owns a country house in Perthshire. The house is peaceful and quiet but a b-road passes by her front gate. Every May the Caledonia Etape Cycling Sportive uses the road. 5,000 cyclists pass the entrance to her house but one year instead of wiz’ing by I wiz’ed in a different manner.

I was desperate for the loo and I saw her path was conveniently located close to the road. A bush next to the gate hid me from the view of other cyclists. I knew it was her house but resisted the urge to shout, whilst gripping my wand, “Expelliarmus!!!!”.

I’ve started planning my 2018 “season” hopefully I’ll avoid any incidents with beloved children’s authors! I’m picking races based on the closeness to my house and ones I’ve done before and enjoyed.

2018 Races (until Norseman)

  • January 27th – Buchlayvie 10K
  • February 11th  – Kirkintilloch 12.5K
  • February 24th – Glentress Trail race 21K
  • March 11th – Balloch to Clydebank Half Marathon
  • March 18th – Alloa Half Marathon
  • March 25th – Stirling Duathlon
  • April 22nd – Balfron 10K
  • May 13th – Loch Leven half marathon
  • May 20th – Caledonian Etape
  • July 1st  – Ironman Edinburgh 70.3
  • August 5th – Norseman
Iain

Glentress Winter Trail Race 21K (Iain)

1 Comment

route

I have two man crushes. One is ex-Celtic striker Henrik Larsson.  I was a season ticket holder at Celtic during Larsson’s time there. At games I’d sing:

You are my Larsson,
My Henrik Larsson
You make me happy when skies are grey
We went for Shearer, but he’s a w******
So please don’t take my Larsson away

He eventually got taken away so I stopped my season ticket! Celtic without Henke was like Ant without Dec – nice setup work but no-one to supply the punchline.

My other crush is…Hugh Grant. I think it’s because we both fancy Liz Hurley and we both had terrible floppy haired curtain haircuts before cutting our hair short. The first film I saw him in was “The Englishman Who Went up a Hill but Came down a Mountain”.

A title which sums up my Glentress trail race experience (but replace Englishman with Scottishman).

I hadn’t done enough research on the race. Actually, I hadn’t done any. I just had a vague memory from biking at Glentress six years ago. Unfortunately that vague memory wasn’t of the course but of a particularly good plate of macaroni cheese I had at the cafe. Mmmm – delicious!

The day before the race I was asked – what are you doing at the weekend? I replied, “I’m running up a hill.”

I was sort of correct except the hill was just a warm-up for the rest of the climb! It was actually a 6 mile 700m+ ascent of a mountain!!! (I might be using dramatic licence here but it was a long climb and I think of hills as being less than 700m…much, much less)

So, although I went up what I thought was a hill. I definitely came back down a mountain.

PS – It’s a great race. The next one is on in February https://www.highterrainevents.co.uk/glentress-trail-race

23734851_526283914419415_6199753637867028480_n

Iain

Norseman 2018 (Iain)

 

Capture.JPG

Feck – I’d better start training!!!

I feel very lucky to have won a place through a ballot. Although – is it really a win to have to jump off a ferry into a freezing Norwegian fjord? Is it a win to then bike 112 hilly miles? Is it a win to have to running up a mountain called zombie hill?

I think most people would describe it as a punishment.

I’ve read they’re going to change the entry process from next year. I suspect to make it harder for no-hopers like myself to get in 🙂

Considering the rise in the number of long distance extreme races I’d guess Norseman will become like Iron Man Kona and an athlete will have to qualify to do it.

Unfortunately, I forgot I’d also entered the ballot for Celtman so I was a bit shocked when I got

Capture2.JPG

I haven’t ever been successful in a ballot for a race. Then I get in twice in a row! D’OH!

I’ve written to Celtman to apologize and ask they give the place to someone else.

Hopefully, another lucky person will also ‘win’!

Iain

Learning to learn (Iain)

There is an old saying: “Those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach”

Which is certainly true of the teachers I had. Except they could not ‘do’ or ‘teach’.

My physics teacher was a drunk. He had no idea who anyone in his class was. At the start of each year, he would take a photo of the class. At the school parents evening he pointed at the class photo and asked my parents: “Which one’s yours?”

My history teacher used to tell fat kids at the front of the class to move to the back as they were blocking the view of the other pupils!

My tech teacher gave me a bit of wood to make a model boat. He then used my bit to demonstrate how to do it. When I gave it to him for assessment he said it was rubbish and gave me a “D.” It was his work!

All I can say to my physics/history/teach teacher is – all is forgiven! Last month I did the  UKCC Level 1 Triathlon Course. I discovered for myself how difficult it is to teach a group.

The course takes place over three days. On day one, I coached a swim session on sculling. There was only one problem. I did not know what sculling was. Actually, there was a second problem. One of the people I had to teach was the brother of an Olympic swimmer. It’s fair to say his small toe knew more about swimming than I did.

I was very self-conscious as I told people to “catch the water” and “this will make you a better swimmer” as I had no idea what I was talking about. I eventually gave in and made them swim up and down. At least they got some exercise.

The lesson I took from that was its best to teach what I know and if I don’t know it then I need to practice, practice, practice till I do know it.

On day two I had to teach running and biking. This went slightly better. My running drill was balance. I’d done a yoga class that morning with a balance section so I just repeated what that teacher had done. There’s no point in reinventing the wheel.

My bike coaching was terrible so the less said about that the better but it did reemphasize that I need to practice, practice and practice some more.

Day three was the assessment. Thankfully, that went well and I passed the course. Thankfully, there’s a gap of a few weeks before day three so I was able to practice, practice and practice!

Hopefully I can now help out at some club sessions. Fellow athletes can then say about me:

“Those who can tri, those who can’t coach!”

Iain

My first triathlon (Iain)

On a Monday, in September 2008, I  joined the Royal Bank of Scotland. The first day was amazing. I met my team mates, I got taken out for lunch and, in the evening, we all went to a bar and got drunk.

My second day wasn’t as good – the bank collapsed!

I don’t think the financial crises was my fault but I can’t be certain. I was very drunk that night.

During the night out, the RBS project manager told me about a race he’d entered – the Edinburgh New Year’s Day Triathlon. A 400m swim in a pool, then three laps on a bike of Arthur’s Seat finishing with one lap running around Arthurs Seat.

It sounded great, so I signed up. I then realized I hadn’t swam since school ten years previously. I then realized that at school I hadn’t been very good at swimming.

I should therefore have practiced swimming before the event but like all men faced with a problem – I ignored it!

I’m not sure I took the event seriously. This is what I wrote on Facebook the night before the race.

1.png

 

and this is what I was doing at 0300, five hours before the start of the race

2.png

I think it’s fair to say my pre-race fueling strategy was flawed.

I woke up very hungover but I made it to the start.

The swim was eight laps of the commonwealth pool. I used the breast stroke for all of them. I remember thinking “this is the furthest I’ve ever swam” and that was at the end of lap one!

The bike didn’t go any better.

I had an old mountain bike. Thankfully I was not breathalyzed before hitting the road. My bike broke on lap one. Everyone passed me as I tried to fix it. I eventually got it working and made it round slowly.

My drinking caught up with me on the run and I threw up at the start, the middle and the end of the lap.

I eventually finished last.

BUT that wasn’t the worst part of the day. After the swim, instead of going to the run transition, I’d gone to the changing room to use the hairdryer. I wasn’t going to go out on new years day in Scotland with wet hair. I’d catch a cold!

As I was blowing my hair the RBS project manager saw me. He strode over and asked how my race had gone” I replied that I was currently doing it. He looked appalled!

3

Iain

The Great Scottish Run (Iain)

Last weekend, I attended a level one triathlon coaching course. I’ll write about the course later, in a post I’ve provisionally titled: “He who can, tri’s. He who cannot, coaches”. Due to attending the course I missed this year’s Great Scottish Run but it did remind me of some of my previous attempts.

The Great Scottish Run is the first race I entered. I knew a marathon was 26 miles but I mistakenly thought a half marathon was 10 miles. I’d never been good at maths. At university I did an algebra exam. The tutor wrote on it: “This shows no knowledge of algebra whatsoever.”

You can imagine my disappointment when I got to the 10 mile point and I didn’t find the finish line. I quickly realised my mistake and calculated how far I still had to go. “Oh no,” I thought, “I still have 5 miles to go.” I told you I’m not very good at maths.

I did the race again a year later. I took a bus to the start. I put my bus ticket in the pocket of my shorts. Unfortunately the heavens opened and the rain came down. I got so wet, my ticket dissolved! I didn’t have any money so after the race I had to walk four miles home.

You’d think it would be third time lucky but I forgot my trainers and ran my third attempt in leather shoes. I gave in at the eight mile point as it was close to my house and my feet hurt.

Last year, I decided to do the 10k. Luckily the distance is in the title of the race so I knew how far it was to the finish.

The course started with a slog up a hill before flattening out. The course then winds its way through motorway underpasses and ugly streets. The race won’t trouble any “most scenic race” lists. The course is a bit slow as there are numerous pinch points where the sheer number of people force everyone to slow down.

The highlight of the race  was watching an old women run alongside her daughter. The daughter was proudly shouting at her mum encouraging and praising her. Repeatedly shouting “you can do it!”

It was so sweet to see them share this special moment across the generations.

It became even better when the mum took one look at the daughter and thanked her by shouting “Why don’t YOU just F&#K OFF!!!”.

Andrew

Life: the fifth triathlon discipline (Andrew)

Some people say that triathlon is a sport of four, not three, disciplines.

You’ve got your swimming, your cycling and your running – the three sports that make up a triathlon.

But you could add a fourth. Transition. The ability to stay upright while trying to pull a wetsuit off your foot with all the grace of an alcoholic ballerina performing the dance of the swans on a stage made of butter. Transition is a sport in itself.

However, there is also a fifth discipline. One that’s more complicated than bilateral breathing and harder to master than keeping upright with tri-bars whenever the wind blows (which is every day in Scotland). And that discipline is ‘life’.

Because the one thing triathlon expects, nay demands, is that you actually find the time to run, swim, cycle, struggle with wet suits at the side of lochs, and that can be tricky. You can’t spend all your time on your bike when you’ve got to be at home or work.

And some weeks, that means you don’t get to do very much at all. And those are the toughest weeks because you might have a diary or training plan that requires you to swim 4×500 metres followed by 30 minutes of light jogging. Yet you’ve not left work. The dog needs walked and you want to be home in time for dinner.

That’s why I call life the fifth discipline. Arguably, the most important one, because you need to be just as good as balancing everything else that’s happening in your life before you can even think about going out for a run. At least if you want to avoid divorce, the sack, or a grumpy dog.

So, for the last few weeks, I’ve been concentrating on the fifth discipline. Life.

Which is definitely a thing – and just something I’ve invented to justify eating cake.

And I’ve definitely not been lazy and put my feet up for a month.

Oh, no, not me –  I’ve been hard at work.

Training – honest! 🙂