How elusive is the search for progress?

Progress is relative. Progress is subjective. But the infrequent times I have managed to maintain some forms of training, progress is hard to find.

The ongoing chase for that elusive ' race fitness' continues. And one that is made all the more prescient as suddenly the full triathlon season is upon us.

Due to this errant approach to training lethargy sets in more easily. More easy to turn over than answer the early morning alarm. More easy to hit the couch than the track. And yet there is the yearning to progress. More than three months now in the pool, and several in the original beginners have, rightfully, been promoted to the intermediate lane. I, though, stalled. I have led the beginners lane on a number of days, but progress seemed to elude me. 

I pressed on session after session, drill after drill. And while my fitness and stamina appeared, at least on a superficial level, to have improved, I really didn't know if I was making progress.

Progress is more than simply an indication of improvement, it is a motivation. A reward for the hard work put in, and a way to move forward. But training wasn't giving me that. Mild frustrations set in. As much at myself for missing training through laziness, fatigue and illness. But frustrations nonetheless.

And as the season arrives, the lack of progress gets amplified. So having asked our coach, Lee, for a few tips on how to improve I had my next step towards progress. I hoped.  But quite how I progressed surprised me. Next training was on Bank holiday Tuesday. I arrived at the pool more out of habit than eagerness. I sought to put Lee's suggestions into play. 

Eight lengths later I was in the intermediate lane. Progress. Made. Motivation restored.

Progress is relative. I am now in the intermediate swimming lane. Progress is subjective.  I believe I can keep improving.

Roll on the season and the first triathlon in two weeks time.

Looking like a triathlete does not a triathlete make!

Once again my lethargy in updating my blog has been due to more rollercoasters and circles of late nights, early mornings, lack of rest, a worn down body, oh and the weather! But yesterday evening finally brought the chance to get back into it again.

The weather eventually allowed the new toy get unwrapped properly.  

My body is now in trouble. It's sore. Some call this recovery. I'm not fully convinced. I'm clearly unfit and in need of more training. But I managed 20kms on my new bike. My first proper cycle on my new time trial bike. Exhilarating. Nervous. Fast. Shaky. And really quite breathless.

I picked up the Planet X time trial bike a little over two weeks ago and ever since it has sat in the apartment staring tantalisingly back up at me. The weather left a lot to be desired. And I certainly wasn't going to bring out the toy in the pissing rain. That would be no fun at all.

A five minute race down the road and back up about ten days ago was merely a warm up. It merely confirmed the bike worked.

So last night as I alighted the train the weather presented the perfect opportunity to properly bring the bike out on a test run.  I decided to tackle Howth Head - go on a route I know and can possibly compare to my newly appointed 'training bike'.  It took a while to get used to changing the gears at the end of the tri bars. The ease with which the bike advanced was tremendous, and the power that could easily be generated without too much effort, surprising.

Now going up Howth Head is never easy at the best of times, but I managed to get up the hill quite well, and the up hill sections were more manageable than expected.  And the downhill was, well lets just say I didn't want to push the bike (or myself) to that limit just yet.  Bike control is one thing on this bike that I won't be taking for granted.

I just have to get out on it more often and hope that I don't make a fool of myself on it during my first triathlon of the season in four weeks time.

This bike is just so light. It is fast. It is agile. I think it will simply remove lethargy from my vocab. At least that's the hope.



PS A real triathlete was used in the photo. I don't know how to go that fast yet! And no I don't have one of those helmets either.

Back with a vengeance. Definitely maybe.

So two rested and two enforced weeks from training complete and back with a vengeance (part two) again tomorrow.

While the first two weeks were largely tolerated, the last two were not so easy to handle. To make matters worse Easter really is not the best time to have two non-training weeks.  As the BORG said in Star Trek, 'resistance is futile'. Okay, so my efforts to avoid chocolate and other temptations were questionable at best, but nonetheless it was still not easy.

Over Easter, the weather also didn't help as the rain and wind pelted the northwest, not allowing for much opportunity to get out on the bike.  Added to that, the four Heineken Cup quarter finals and the Masters golf made it equally hard to drag myself from the lay-z-boy.

When I did finally get out, the wind was blowing a gale, the rain was threatening, and my belly was full of a heavy meal, chocolate and wine.  There are many views taken on how best to fuel for training; this was none of them.

My aim was a 50km cycle, but after no more than 8kms I knew that simply wasn't going to happen. Lacking all rhythm and a total inability to tackle the hills with any gusto (and a complete lack of breath) told its own story of a sorry loss of fitness. Well over 80 minutes later and a sorry 30kms later my Easter Sunday torture was complete.

Slowly things hvae been turning around since the weekend, and I have strived to tone back the rubbish with a bit more focus to getting back into training.  Tomorrow's swim time trial arrives just a bit early for me to test my endurance and possible improvements. Maybe next week. But at least I'll be back in the pool.

Patience will have to be the key this time round. The vengeance may just have to be toned back a bit this time.

Feeling the blues

I’m staring at my screen and I’m feeling blue.  Having had a two week sabbatical from training, I threw myself back into the mix over the weekend.  Swimming on Saturday and cycling on Sunday – more about that anon – but today, a doctor’s appointment has led to an enforced two-week swim and run abstention.  I’m not a happy bunny!

Having had the two weeks off, I intended approaching training gingerly and not go too hard from the off. Yea right!  In the pool it was arm drill after arm drill after arm drill.  The energy was sapped out of me at an alarming rate! Or maybe I was just doing them incorrectly! Either way, half way through our session I had to slow things down – for a few minutes at least to get some of my breath back.  But the post-training buzz had me in a good mood and delighted to be back in the pool. 

The Saturday couch recovery session, of course, never happened.

For Sunday morning’s club cycle one of the guys (Gav Duffy) set a daunting challenge to ascend and descend Howth Head (from the cemetery) ten times.  Yes, you didn’t mis-read that. 10 times. Why you ask? Well apparently April 1^st is known as the Sufferlandrian Day of Suffering. Lucky us!

The challenge was open to those at all levels, so as part of the beginners group, the challenge was set slightly lower with the aim to reach at least three ascents, and if possible four.

The climb in total was a mere 4.8kms.  A climb I have done on a good number of occasions, but never at this level. Now while that distance does not seem like much, it is a deceptive climb that offers small bouts of respite before challenging you again and again with another incline.  And as the sun’s heat increased during the ride out to Sutton, the intensity of the challenge increased.

The group started together. Beginners, intermediate and advanced all as one. That didn’t last long!  The group was quickly strung out. Each to their own; each to face the hill each time in almost total isolation.  Pick a target in front of you and keep pedalling. And don’t get lapped. Too often.

“That wasn’t too bad,” I thought after reaching the summit for the first time, “ten doesn’t seem so unattainable.”  Ah, the thoughts of the innocent. The beginners group agreed to re-group after three laps.  Everyone was still in good shape.  “Let’s go for two more,” it was suggested. That seemed attainable. Just.

The fourth time up quickly became tougher than the previous three put together.  And number five just plain hurt.  All the while being lapped for at least the second time by the advanced crew. There is a lot to learn yet.

Unless I’d been offered a large sum of money I would have been able to face the climb for even another 50 metres. Howth had beaten me. This time.

Needless to say Sunday’s recovery was much more couch based, but with an increased sense of achievement. Roll on Tuesday morning swimming.

That is until this morning.  A meeting with a dermatologist, the removal of a mole (on the bottom of my foot), three stitches later and I was put on, as they stay in US sports, the disabled list. Despite my best efforts to assure the nurse that I’d look after myself, she was having none of it. 

No swimming or running until the stitches are removed. No training for two weeks. Now that plan sucks! Just back into training and I now have to forego another eight training sessions. 

While that might be a welcome break during the season, now is not that time for me. Sure is it any wonder I’m feeling blue!

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!