Reading again tonight. It was a stunning evening, so I pottered off on the four(ish)-mile canal run. The downside of the warm, sunny evening – sadly – was the number of flies around the water. I’m not keen on wearing sunglasses when I run; but the alternative is closing my eyes all the way, which is less than ideal. The flies made a beeline for my face, I swallowed at least one and a couple landed in my left eye…the remains of which I located when I got back to the house.
Other wildlife sightings included some fluffy bunnies in the hedgerows. Less threatening than the dog that recently decided to try to remove my shorts with its teeth on a recent run in Bath (it nearly succeeded), or the man who gave a full frontal flash when I was out running in Reading with a girlfriend a couple of years ago. Though come to think about it, that wasn’t really threatening – it being broad daylight on a main road – but hysterically funny.
My time was five seconds less than last week when I ran with Phil. But this did include a minor detour after a wrong turn, so I reckon my actual time was about one minute faster. This may be explained by the fact that I don’t talk when I’m on my own.
What a fun way to spend a Saturday
Originally uploaded by Mr & Mrs S-P
Photo from the Spinnathon (about an hour an a half in, so still smiling).
Headed down to Bath Sports and Leisure Centre this morning for the Family Fun Day. Every activity was open to members and visitors for just £1, and there was plenty going on. I’ve been a member for a couple of years, and am constantly impressed by the staff and facilities on offer. They have a very well equipped adult gym, extensive exercise class timetable, full-length pool, aqua tubes, “Zany Zone” for little children and an “Active Zone” for slightly older kids and teenagers, featuring Xbox fitness games, Playstation dance mats and smaller-than-average treadmills, spin bikes and cross-trainers. Absolutely fantastic way of getting kids out and jumping around.
First on my to-do list was the bleep test – where you shuttle run around 20 metres between pre-recorded bleeps, which get closer together as time goes on. You might remember doing this at school and hating every moment. I’ve got to be honest: I still dislike it. I maintain that I’m not built for speed, but I was intrigued to see if my recent training was paying off by comparing it to the result I got a couple of years ago when I last did the test – reaching level 7 (a bad day) and then 8.7. So off I went. And the first five or six levels weren’t too bad. You start off at a very gentle jog, and gradually work up. Once you get to seven, it starts to become hard work. By eight, I was running out of puff, but was quite pleased to hear Simon (the PT) shout out “8.7 Jo, keep going!” I did keep going for a little longer, but finished – feeling a bit sick – at 9.4. More than fit enough to join the police (5) but some way off entry level for the SAS (16). I’m dead pleased that I beat my previous best, but must admit that I would like to hit 10 next time…
After recovering from that little burst of activity, I spent half an hour or so in the gym doing some gentle resistance work on the Swiss ball. Then it was time to get ready for the spinnathon… a four-hour spin challenge outside under a gazebo at the front of the Centre. Simon took the first hour, which was reasonably easy – just like a normal class. Laura led the second hour, still ok. Newly qualified George took over for the third hour – when we all started to flag. Not sure if that was due to a general air of exhaustion or because George was obsessed with doing these sprint sections out of the saddle. I got a second wind at about the three-hour mark, when Simon and George took the reins jointly. That lasted about ten minutes, when all of a sudden I was aware that my quads were burning, my feet were sore and I was starving hungry. The last half-hour was tough, but we got there.
There were some amusing moments: any one of the strange expressions we got from passers-by; the little toddler with his fingers in his ears who obviously didn’t think much to Simon’s iPod playlist; virtually all the spinners spontaneously breaking out into song when Castles in the Sky made an appearance; and the fully grown man being chased by a wasp while he tried to eat his lunch in front of us. We also had a minor disagreement over whether or not one track was performed by U2. It was. Electrical Storm and it’s on my Best of 1990-2000 album.
Pretty bloody tired now though, even after food, shower and cup of tea. Also have some quite serious blisters, though (thanks to the padded shorts) only on my feet.
Stayed in Reading for the night, giving me time for a quick early evening run with a friend from work. Running remains my favourite of the three disciplines and, after a hard day at the office, really calms the soul. I’m also mindful that I could get a bit complacent about the running bit of the triathlon and – given that it makes up the final stage on race day – that would be rather unwise. We ran just over four miles in about 39 minutes. Don’t think my mate was impressed, since he’d done the same route nearly three minutes quicker the night before. Nonetheless I really enjoyed our gentle jog along the canal.
Saw lots of fishermen en route. What’s that all about? I can’t think of anything more boring than sitting on the edge of the water in the rain. But maybe that’s their way of calming the soul.
One of the interesting things about signing up for a triathlon is other people’s reactions when you tell them. The vast majority – including all of my girlfriends and almost everyone at work – look at me as if I am completely insane.
My Dad seemed sort-of impressed when I told him over the phone, but there was a hint of “do-you-really-know-what you-doing” in his voice.
My husband thinks the whole idea is slightly hilarious, and seems quite keen to sit on the beach with a loud-hailer as my swimming coach when we head down to Cornwall for a break in a few weeks’ time. I’m not sure if he thinks I really won’t be able to do it, or whether he’s employing some sort of reverse psychology trick on me – either way it actually makes me more determined to complete it.
Others have practical advice, I’ve been seeing one of the instructors at the gym once a month for some time for a personal training session – just to make the gym slightly more interesting and get over my dislike of resistance training in particular. He’s given me lots of exercises to do with the Swiss ball, aimed at building core muscles as well as a little bit of upper-body strength. I happened to mention – a few months ago – that at some point in the distant future I was interested in potentially thinking about maybe doing a triathlon…and he wrote it into my bloody training programme. So I can partly blame him for being here now. Nonetheless, he’s very supportive – and has given me some extra resistance training, booked me in for two extra “cardio coach” sessions, lined up a swimming lesson and roped me into a four-hour spin challenge and bleep test.
On that basis, I thought I’d better go to a spinning class today. It was the scary lady instructor that was probably a drill sergeant in a previous life – loud voice, goes right through you and there’s no way you dare ignore her command to give it a bit more resistance even though your legs can barely turn the pedals. It was hard…especially after the ride on my new bike yesterday.
After a shower and a bacon sandwich (well deserved, I thought), I popped into town to visit the bike shop to buy a pair of padded shorts. After trying on about eight pairs, and finally coming to the conclusion that they all make you walk a bit strangely, I settled on a pair of black Helly Hansen ones featuring – among other “revolutionary” technologies – lateral flaps. The sun finally came out, so I hopped on the bike and headed off to the cycle path with hubby tagging along in his handbike. Did the same route as yesterday, which was actually more like 15 miles when we looked on the map. I like to think I’m looking a little more stable and I’ve got the hang of putting my feet into the toe-clips without falling off. Don’t think I’ll be buying any cleats though – I don’t really want to be attached to the bike just yet.
And my bum? Much more comfortable thanks. Lateral flaps are the way forward.
I’m not very good at this blogging malarky, sorry; will try harder. Work has been a bit busy – last week I spent three nights away from home in Reading, London, Derby and Nottingham. Despite this, I managed two gym sessions, a five-mile run in Derbyshire, a 1,500m swim at my local pool and my favourite seven-mile run around Bath’s “Skyline” route. The latter was very dirty indeed due to the recent rainfall and I did get some peculiar looks from more appropriately dressed dog-walkers as I slipped and slid around the woods in the mud.
This past working week has been far less productive – just one trip to the gym. However, I picked up my very pretty new bike yesterday and decided to take it for its inaugural ride today. I discovered that it’s a bit different from my faithful old hybrid/mountain bike. Having never even sat on a road bike before with its weird drop handlebars, lightweight frame and titchy tyres, I was a little nervous. Nonetheless I donned my (also newly purchased) helmet and wobbled off in the direction of the Bath-Bristol cycle path. Once off the road, I relaxed a bit, put my back into it and was soon flying along. It was surprisingly fast and I don’t think a single person overtook me as I did about 10 miles in total. Even off-road, there were some potential hazards, mainly involving small children and dogs – both rather unpredictable. But thankfully no collisions.
Bum hurts now though. I’ve always thought it was reasonably well covered, but I think I may have to invest in some of those padded shorts after all.
A recent edition of Runner’s World tells me that training for a triathlon will give me the body of a film star. Hmmm. I think this is unlikely unless they’re referring to Renée Zellweger in Bridget Jones. I’m a bit on the bottom-heavy side and love my food…and wine and gin.
Anyway, apparently the key to this new physique is regular “brick” sessions, which combine a cycle and a run back-to-back. So…in the absence of an actual road bike for the time being, I’ve started to include these brick sessions within my gym programme. The cycle is ok – I’m up to about 15km over half an hour on the random setting (not sure how many hills there are in Eastbourne…better to be safe than sorry).
I’m a reasonably experienced runner, if a little slow. But getting your legs to run in a straight line on the treadmill immediately after the cycle is surprisingly tricky. I’m also having to drop my speed a little from my normal 11km jog pace until my legs feel a bit more normal.
Nonetheless, I was quite proud of myself when I managed a 30-minute run after a 45-minute spinning class last week. Was knackered afterwards though.
I turned 30 last month, and I thought this was as good a reason as any to set myself a new fitness challenge. Inspired by my Dad, I have already completed two London marathons and seven or eight half-marathons over the past few years. Time to try something new, I thought, and signed up for an Olympic triathlon (1,500km swim, 40k cycle, 10k run) off the south coast this September. I’m pretty confident of being able to do each of the distances separately, but I do realise that putting the three disciplines together is probably harder than it sounds. I possess only a decrepit old mountain bike at this stage, and my only experience of swimming in open water has involved splashing around in a mask and snorkel while on holiday in calm, warm waters.
