Have a break. Have a KitKat, or maybe a pint.

It's been a while since I've updated this....as much because I haven't been training. which in itself has caused me no end of worry.

Before taking the semi-forced, semi-unforced break from training, I strived to squeeze as much training in as possible. Swim, swim, cycle, swim, swim, swim. I even forced myself up for a session last Saturday before heading to the airport for a flight. But with 10 days off training for holidays, it may not have been the wisest plan.

An anxiety overtook me in the days before my break, which I struggled to quite rationalise, taking off the time from training. The togs were thrown in the bag in the off chance of finding a pool to ease my torture for a while.

That never happened. So instead, I had to accept that I'd be missing out.

While I didn't quite get withdrawal symptoms, and did have a weekend lie-in for the first time in six weeks, I have missed training. The new-to-tri group in Piranha Tri Club has been great, and there has been a great energy as everyone has been improving. That buzz was as much missed as anything else.

So after a break, including a wedding, more alcohol in the last 10 days than that previous two months, it will be back to training this weekend. I just hope I won't have lost too much fitness, haven't fallen too far behind the others. Oh and haven't forgotten how to swim.

Square one is the last place I need to find myself!

Michael Phelps still isn’t losing any sleep.

I really didn’t know how I was going to deal with the swim time-trial. It was nothing I had done before. So whatever about timing myself over 25 or 50 metres, this 200 or 400 metre test was at a different level all together.

On Friday evening I geared myself up for the 400 metre. I wanted to test myself. Set a benchmark against which I could compare later times. But I was still nervous.

Overnight I had tried to work out a target for myself. What would be a realistic target? What could be achieved if pushed? I felt, if I succeeded roughly how I was doing in training that something around the 8 minute mark I would be doing well. No pressure!

Unsurprisingly I was awake before the alarm on Saturday morning.

Us beginners were split into two lanes, as the coaches assessed our abilities. When asked if I wanted to do the 400 metre trial, I knew I didn’t have a choice. But was happy with the choice.

Our lane had ten people in it and the time-trial was split in two. I was in the second group, and so had to endure watching the first group, while trying to stay warm. Two of the lads were well below seven minutes, and one of the girls who I have consistently been slower than in training clocked 7mins 48 secs. This 8 minute marker was almost certainly beyond my capabilities.

While it may sound a bit obvious, but 8 lengths of a 50 metre pool is a long way. For me at least, it is. Having seen the first group charge out, the best way to survive – and that was how I saw it – was to pace myself.

“And go,” shouted Elena. No turning back now. So I pushed off the wall and the first 100 metres passed off without too many problems, but also really without too much speed. The second 100 metres was tough but was survived. The third hundred, I picked the speed up, and ended with still a bit of juice still in the tank.

So I took to the last 100 with extra vigour. “You can recover when the swim is over,” I said to myself. So for the first 50 I started quickly, but eased down at the turn. Then all technique, style common swimming sense went out the window. Just trash through the water and get to the wall as fast as possible. I can only assume it wasn’t pretty for anyone watching, and needless to say nobody had Norris McWhirter on hold in case my time was worth talking about.

I wheezed and puffed, trying to catch my breath, with no idea of what sort of time I did. Elena looked at her watch, trying to work out my final time. When she first said it I only heard, “seven minutes…” I didn’t care what was said after it. I had somehow managed to beat my target time.

Seven minutes, forty eight seconds. Job done.

So in five weeks time that time has to be reduced by ten seconds. Game on. Now 400 metres is a challenge I will revel rather than fear.

Piranha by name. Not necessarily by nature.

So the stakes are being raised a little. Tomorrow, swim time trial.

The dates were first announced about three weeks ago, and us beginners lane were all set for out trial last week. However, at the last minute, and due to the large number in our lane (more than 20), Elena (coach 1) and Tadhg (coach 2 - @tadhgcronin) provided us with a stay of execution of a week.

Now, I’m still not sure if that is a good or a bad thing. Yes, I have another few training sessions under my belt. However it allowed the coaches to assess the group again. And at the end of the last Saturday’s training session, Tadhg kindly left us with this nugget, “some of you will be doing 400(m) next week.” Quite how that will pan out is anyone’s guess.

I am not the fastest in our lane by any stretch but am holding my own. And since last week, the 200m Vs 400m has been hanging over my head. To make matters worse, during today’s session, the top two swimmers in the beginner’s lane were moved into the intermediate lane half way through training. The switch didn’t cause me any issues, but having to lead the lane did. n my endeavours to not get caught by anyone behind me, I then had to push that bit harder just to stay ahead.

With the time trial tomorrow, that was far from ideal. But training is training and is supposed to help improve and progress my skills! So no beer, a decent feed and good night’s sleep are the only things for this evening.

Last weekend the advanced crew averaged 6mins 24secs. If I get within 90 seconds of that I’ll be doing well. Literally, only time will tell!