My training has been very hit and miss recently the last week in particular, with 4 days missed as I had a fantastic weekend away.
Because of my asthma and general unfitness (not to mention the quantity of metal in my right leg!) I knew I needed to build my running up slowly. Until today I was happy with how this was going, but today, I really felt that I needed to move it on a bit.
This is the next leap - moving up a gear from plodding.
The next Clacton 5k race is this coming Thursday (not Friday as the very helpful Lee from Tri and Tri Again) just reminded me on Twitter), and I am super conscious that while I finished it last time, and ran further than I've ever run before, this time I would like to feel a bit less embarrassed about how slow I was!
I really enjoyed my run this evening. I ran a little harder where I could (and this was more than I thought I would manage), and my main target was to have enough in the tank to run down the last bit of the main road back to my house. I managed most of it so was pretty pleased.
I missed out on a club run last week, basically because I was too scaredy to go. While I'm regularly running about 4k, and managing to run the bulk of it, I do feel very slow and nervous of holding the others up.
But at the same time, I know I need to push myself on to the next level, and the only way to do that is to push. And working with others is a great way to do that - as Hector Barbera will tell you (maybe I need a little Tricycle / On Tow sign to wear when I'm running).
Over the weekend, while I was away sunning myself and generally having a good time in London and in Bath and not doing any running, a certain Mr Wiggins was pedalling away extremely hard with the guys from Team Sky and managed to win the Tour de France. I want to do a separate post on this as it's such a huge thing. Particularly in my family, and most of all for my cycling mad, Herne Hill riding Dad.
We have had a lot of text chat about le Tour, and I'm afraid I have been rather glued to my phone watching for updates. My telly decided to lose ITV4 in the last but one retune, so not only did I miss out on all the TT coverage this year, but all the TdF coverage too. I'll be having a big old ITVplayer catch up before it runs out!
So for now, not much else to say but Chapeau Wiggins!
*** PS Poco a Poco is a musical term and means little by little in Italian. Let's Push Things Forward is an awesome song by The Streets
Tuesday, 24 July 2012
Tuesday, 17 July 2012
Just keep swimming
Swimming remains my biggest challenge on the triathlon front.
Running is hard work, and my asthma has been dreadful the last week. I've really struggled with the recent damp weather but did drag myself out for a run last Thursday morning. It was a while since I'd been (because of the ear infection) and I really felt it. However, I felt it in my chest rather than my legs, and this was a new sensation. No matter how many puffs I had from the magic blue inhaler, it wasn't enough and I had to take it really easy. I walked. Lots. But my legs wanted to run.
Last Friday night I had some help with my swimming, from Lee at Tri and Tri Again . This was my first swim coaching since I was 12.
I enjoyed swimming when I was younger, but hated school swimming lessons. The pool was freezing, both in and out of the water. I hated communal changing, even though I was at an all girls school. To this day I hate being in a swimsuit even around people I know.
Swimming lessons back then consisted of queuing up, piling into the pool and swimming a length of whatever stroke it was. I had joined the school later than lots of the other girls who had been there since they left primary school, so I hadn't had the same instruction and really didn't know what I was doing. I was dog slow compared to everyone else, and got put in the "lacking confidence in the water" group. Which meant we spent our time in the shallow end, splashing about and diving to retrieve bricks from the bottom. Not great for actually helping my swimming but the sixth form volunteers were lovely so it was enjoyable enough. I did learn to dive properly though, as no one had done that before so when we learnt as a class, I was in on it from the beginning.
I never really lacked confidence in the water thanks to my dad taking me and my brother swimming regularly, I just wasn't a very strong swimmer and lack of practice led to complete lack of inclination. A friend's mum was a coach at a local leisure centre, and a swim party one year resulted in a hugely enjoyable game of water polo which, surprisingly, I really enjoyed. I wasn't focussing on the swimming, I was concentrating on the game and I loved it.
My most recent experience of regular swimming was when I was recovering from a couple of nasty breaks - a completely shattered ankle in 1997 following a fall while rock climbing, and a shattered trapezium (tiny bone at the bottom of your thumb) in 2007 resulting from a crash while racing my motorbike.
The pool I used in 1997 was in a gorgeous gym in central Manchester, in a stunning 1920s office block across the road from the climbing shop where I worked. The pool looked up to the sky and was generally empty at the time when I used to go, just before work each morning. Then the Aquatics Centre opened in Manchester, just ahead of the Commonwealth Games in 2000, not far from where I used to live, and I used to go there when I could. I really was spoilt for nice pools when I lived up north!
In 2007 I went to Deep Water Aerobics - not really swimming, but lots of waving around in the water which really helped me build up the strength in my hand again. This was in the rather less luxurious setting of Colchester Leisureworld.
But. I digress. Lee was incredibly patient - I explained I couldn't manage more than half a length of front crawl. My breaststroke is OK, but front crawl is preferable as it's much quicker. Plus, it's a challenge and I want to crack front crawl. We went right back to basics, and he was really supportive as I continued to panic and struggled to breathe in the right place. It was an incredibly useful session, and I was determined to practice last night on my normal Monday night swim.
Last night was a disaster though, initially anyway. As mentioned above, my asthma has been dire since last week, and I wasn't sure how much I'd be able to do. I forced myself to go (the looming triathlon was the main motivation!). I really wanted to practice what I'd learnt on Friday, but after 2 lengths of breaststroke to warm up, I nearly got out. Halfway down the very first length, I had a complete panic. Something about the blue of the water as I looked down at the bottom of the pool took me back to school days, and it was all I could do to stay afloat. I did a second length to get back to the shallow end. A stern talking to and I kept going, having decided tonight was probably not the night to push it on new stuff.
I got up to 20 lengths, and again almost gave up. My chest was pounding. I had another little talk to myself and figured when September comes, I will be even more scared in the water, so I'd better get used to keeping going when I didn't want to. This is something I do on the harp all the time, when things go wrong, so it shouldn't have been difficult. It then became an exercise in mind over matter, and I managed a further 20 lengths. After a little while, I settled down and began to feel the glide I'd felt last week. 40 lengths is the most I have ever done so I am really pleased. This is my 4th swimming session (5th if you include the time spent with Lee) and I have gone from 20 at the first up to 40 last night.
Just Keep Swimming is a well known line from Finding Nemo - everyone takes the mickey out of poor Dory for being forgetful and silly, but in the end, when it gets difficult later in the film, Nemo relies on Dory's words to keep him safe. It's appropriate for my swimming challenge, but I've used it for a long time to keep going when things are tough, and Finding Nemo is one of my favourite films.
I didn't realise until recently, but my uncle used Just Keep Swimming as his mantra for when things were getting particularly unpleasant during his chemo treatment. He still uses it now. It's a good one as when you say it, you can see a daft blue fish with a silly voice being really annoying in her insistence that everything will be alright. Cliched perhaps for actual swimming, but in the context of life in general, who can argue?
Today I've finally felt my asthma starting to ease off a little, so am hopeful that the next swimming session will be the one to get some proper practice in.
I'm away celebrating a friend's birthday this coming weekend, and can you believe after she booked the hotel, one of my first thoughts was.. I wonder if it has a pool.
I'm really enjoying the new-found focus that the big day in September has brought to my life. I had a big solo harp concert in June and wasn't sure how I'd feel once that was out of the way, but the triathlon training has been just what I needed.
Tomorrow... another run.
Running is hard work, and my asthma has been dreadful the last week. I've really struggled with the recent damp weather but did drag myself out for a run last Thursday morning. It was a while since I'd been (because of the ear infection) and I really felt it. However, I felt it in my chest rather than my legs, and this was a new sensation. No matter how many puffs I had from the magic blue inhaler, it wasn't enough and I had to take it really easy. I walked. Lots. But my legs wanted to run.
Last Friday night I had some help with my swimming, from Lee at Tri and Tri Again . This was my first swim coaching since I was 12.
I enjoyed swimming when I was younger, but hated school swimming lessons. The pool was freezing, both in and out of the water. I hated communal changing, even though I was at an all girls school. To this day I hate being in a swimsuit even around people I know.
Swimming lessons back then consisted of queuing up, piling into the pool and swimming a length of whatever stroke it was. I had joined the school later than lots of the other girls who had been there since they left primary school, so I hadn't had the same instruction and really didn't know what I was doing. I was dog slow compared to everyone else, and got put in the "lacking confidence in the water" group. Which meant we spent our time in the shallow end, splashing about and diving to retrieve bricks from the bottom. Not great for actually helping my swimming but the sixth form volunteers were lovely so it was enjoyable enough. I did learn to dive properly though, as no one had done that before so when we learnt as a class, I was in on it from the beginning.
I never really lacked confidence in the water thanks to my dad taking me and my brother swimming regularly, I just wasn't a very strong swimmer and lack of practice led to complete lack of inclination. A friend's mum was a coach at a local leisure centre, and a swim party one year resulted in a hugely enjoyable game of water polo which, surprisingly, I really enjoyed. I wasn't focussing on the swimming, I was concentrating on the game and I loved it.
My most recent experience of regular swimming was when I was recovering from a couple of nasty breaks - a completely shattered ankle in 1997 following a fall while rock climbing, and a shattered trapezium (tiny bone at the bottom of your thumb) in 2007 resulting from a crash while racing my motorbike.
The pool I used in 1997 was in a gorgeous gym in central Manchester, in a stunning 1920s office block across the road from the climbing shop where I worked. The pool looked up to the sky and was generally empty at the time when I used to go, just before work each morning. Then the Aquatics Centre opened in Manchester, just ahead of the Commonwealth Games in 2000, not far from where I used to live, and I used to go there when I could. I really was spoilt for nice pools when I lived up north!
In 2007 I went to Deep Water Aerobics - not really swimming, but lots of waving around in the water which really helped me build up the strength in my hand again. This was in the rather less luxurious setting of Colchester Leisureworld.
But. I digress. Lee was incredibly patient - I explained I couldn't manage more than half a length of front crawl. My breaststroke is OK, but front crawl is preferable as it's much quicker. Plus, it's a challenge and I want to crack front crawl. We went right back to basics, and he was really supportive as I continued to panic and struggled to breathe in the right place. It was an incredibly useful session, and I was determined to practice last night on my normal Monday night swim.
Last night was a disaster though, initially anyway. As mentioned above, my asthma has been dire since last week, and I wasn't sure how much I'd be able to do. I forced myself to go (the looming triathlon was the main motivation!). I really wanted to practice what I'd learnt on Friday, but after 2 lengths of breaststroke to warm up, I nearly got out. Halfway down the very first length, I had a complete panic. Something about the blue of the water as I looked down at the bottom of the pool took me back to school days, and it was all I could do to stay afloat. I did a second length to get back to the shallow end. A stern talking to and I kept going, having decided tonight was probably not the night to push it on new stuff.
I got up to 20 lengths, and again almost gave up. My chest was pounding. I had another little talk to myself and figured when September comes, I will be even more scared in the water, so I'd better get used to keeping going when I didn't want to. This is something I do on the harp all the time, when things go wrong, so it shouldn't have been difficult. It then became an exercise in mind over matter, and I managed a further 20 lengths. After a little while, I settled down and began to feel the glide I'd felt last week. 40 lengths is the most I have ever done so I am really pleased. This is my 4th swimming session (5th if you include the time spent with Lee) and I have gone from 20 at the first up to 40 last night.
Just Keep Swimming is a well known line from Finding Nemo - everyone takes the mickey out of poor Dory for being forgetful and silly, but in the end, when it gets difficult later in the film, Nemo relies on Dory's words to keep him safe. It's appropriate for my swimming challenge, but I've used it for a long time to keep going when things are tough, and Finding Nemo is one of my favourite films.
I didn't realise until recently, but my uncle used Just Keep Swimming as his mantra for when things were getting particularly unpleasant during his chemo treatment. He still uses it now. It's a good one as when you say it, you can see a daft blue fish with a silly voice being really annoying in her insistence that everything will be alright. Cliched perhaps for actual swimming, but in the context of life in general, who can argue?
Today I've finally felt my asthma starting to ease off a little, so am hopeful that the next swimming session will be the one to get some proper practice in.
I'm away celebrating a friend's birthday this coming weekend, and can you believe after she booked the hotel, one of my first thoughts was.. I wonder if it has a pool.
I'm really enjoying the new-found focus that the big day in September has brought to my life. I had a big solo harp concert in June and wasn't sure how I'd feel once that was out of the way, but the triathlon training has been just what I needed.
Tomorrow... another run.
Tuesday, 10 July 2012
Glide
Some weeks ago, I started to really get hooked on the (harp-related) blog of Deborah Henson-Conant, a harpist with a difference.
Here Gliding onto Stage she talks about the difference between effort and glide. The easiest way I can think of this, is when you see kids that are just starting out on rollerskates. Their skates are strapped to their feet, and they are certainly moving on their skates, but they might as well be walking for all the actual skating they are doing. Then, gradually, they work out that there is an extra step, and they start to feel the thrill of the glide. This is the difference between rehearsing and performing, and in particular when your performance is going really well. Some people refer to it as being in the zone, but I like the Glide concept as I can relate to this physically.
Last night I went swimming. It was the first time I'd been in 2 weeks, and the first training session of any kind for 9 days due to a nasty ear infection and unpleasant side effects from the antibiotics - I was pretty much wasted for most of last week. I was worried that all the fitness that I'd started to develop would have evaporated. (On the plus side, I lost 3lbs which I was pretty pleased about!)
Instead, I felt pretty good. Not technically good at swimming or anything like that, but I definitely found it less of an effort than previously, and I had shorter pauses between lengths.
My first session 4 weeks ago, I managed about 20 lengths (a LOT for me) with lots of rest in between. My second session, I managed 30, still with lots of breaks.
Last night, I did somewhere between 30 and 36 (kept losing count). I'm doing 2 lengths at a time without stopping now. Gradually, I started to feel the glide - I stopped focussing on everything around me, and noticed how much quicker the lengths were going and how I felt as I swam.
This isn't anything marvellous on the Olympic scale, but in terms of my own fitness, I'm feeling a huge improvement each time.
For the triathlon in September, I have to swim 1500m, about 60 lengths of my local pool. Except I have to do it in open water, in the sea in my case. I'd underestimated what this would involve, and my first swimming session really scared me. I realised I wouldn't be able to see as well in seawater. It will be salty, it will taste horrible, and given how much I swallow in the pool, it's not going to be pleasant at all.
Not only do I have a set distance to complete, I have to do it within a cut off period of 50 minutes, otherwise I can't continue onto the next 2 legs of the race. I'm not too worried about the bike ride, and the run, well if I'm too tired I can walk (lots if required!).
Rather than dreading it however, I am really excited about it now - I'm really up for the challenge, especially on the back of how I felt after finishing my Nightrider adventure Nightrider blog post. I am starting to feel the improvement that is coming just from the small amount of training I have managed to do, and this is really spurring me on.
Still a long way to go, especially my first run in a while which is coming up tomorrow...
Here Gliding onto Stage she talks about the difference between effort and glide. The easiest way I can think of this, is when you see kids that are just starting out on rollerskates. Their skates are strapped to their feet, and they are certainly moving on their skates, but they might as well be walking for all the actual skating they are doing. Then, gradually, they work out that there is an extra step, and they start to feel the thrill of the glide. This is the difference between rehearsing and performing, and in particular when your performance is going really well. Some people refer to it as being in the zone, but I like the Glide concept as I can relate to this physically.
Last night I went swimming. It was the first time I'd been in 2 weeks, and the first training session of any kind for 9 days due to a nasty ear infection and unpleasant side effects from the antibiotics - I was pretty much wasted for most of last week. I was worried that all the fitness that I'd started to develop would have evaporated. (On the plus side, I lost 3lbs which I was pretty pleased about!)
Instead, I felt pretty good. Not technically good at swimming or anything like that, but I definitely found it less of an effort than previously, and I had shorter pauses between lengths.
My first session 4 weeks ago, I managed about 20 lengths (a LOT for me) with lots of rest in between. My second session, I managed 30, still with lots of breaks.
Last night, I did somewhere between 30 and 36 (kept losing count). I'm doing 2 lengths at a time without stopping now. Gradually, I started to feel the glide - I stopped focussing on everything around me, and noticed how much quicker the lengths were going and how I felt as I swam.
This isn't anything marvellous on the Olympic scale, but in terms of my own fitness, I'm feeling a huge improvement each time.
For the triathlon in September, I have to swim 1500m, about 60 lengths of my local pool. Except I have to do it in open water, in the sea in my case. I'd underestimated what this would involve, and my first swimming session really scared me. I realised I wouldn't be able to see as well in seawater. It will be salty, it will taste horrible, and given how much I swallow in the pool, it's not going to be pleasant at all.
Not only do I have a set distance to complete, I have to do it within a cut off period of 50 minutes, otherwise I can't continue onto the next 2 legs of the race. I'm not too worried about the bike ride, and the run, well if I'm too tired I can walk (lots if required!).
Rather than dreading it however, I am really excited about it now - I'm really up for the challenge, especially on the back of how I felt after finishing my Nightrider adventure Nightrider blog post. I am starting to feel the improvement that is coming just from the small amount of training I have managed to do, and this is really spurring me on.
Still a long way to go, especially my first run in a while which is coming up tomorrow...
Friday, 6 July 2012
Who knew?
Well. Last Friday, I picked up an email at about 5.45, asking me if I fancied joining in a 5k race at Clacton.
I'd sent an email to a local Triathlon club just making some enquiries and saying hello, and a few messages had bounced backwards and forwards.
The race started at 7pm, and I needed to feed my dogs, stop at the cashpoint and get myself to Clacton in time. I almost didn't go, but trying to start as I meant to go on, and hearing nothing but pathetic excuses, I decided to just go for it.
I made the start line a couple of minutes after the main pack left, and true to form, had to stop for a little visit to the loo before I got going properly.
My normal running route is about 4k, around some fields and lanes near my house. I was completing this in about 35 minutes, running most of it and then walking the last stretch. It's a nice route, but a bit dicey as if I tripped, I probably wouldn't be found for months. Every time I go out, I have visions of the first Superman film where the kids are playing in the field and don't know they are about to get munched by a combine harvester. I haven't actually seen any combine harvesters in these particular fields, just an exuberant Jack Russell and a couple of huskies. But that's not the point. It's very overgrown, and the nettles are taller than me in places.
So. I set off on my race, and was pleased to receive lots of encouragement from the local kids. In fact I was pleasantly surprised as I was expecting to get shouts of the four lettered variety, but I think they felt sorry for me as I was so obviously slower than everyone else. The marshals were also very cheerful.
The race was out and back along the sea front, and it was a gorgeous evening. I ran the majority of the out stretch, and then set off back. Into a fair old wind. I hadn't even thought about this on the way out, which was a good thing.
On the way back, I ran about half of the distance. I ran a bit, then walked a bit, and marked this by various buildings along the sea front. Eventually I got to the finish line, and was both utterly delighted and completely amazed that I'd run as much as I had.
I found the folks from the triathlon club and introduced myself, and not only did I wangle my way into the team photo but also managed to go home with a bottle of wine - turned out we were the third placed ladies' club.
If I had known wine was given out at the end of the race, I would have taken up running years ago.
Here is our team photo, which appeared on the back page of the Clacton Gazette yesterday. I'm in the blue top with a very pink face.
This week has been a bit of a disappointment (apart from being in the paper). I've had a horrible ear infection which has completely flattened me. Even though I haven't been running for very long, I have really missed not being able to get out.
Addicted already? Could well be.....
I'd sent an email to a local Triathlon club just making some enquiries and saying hello, and a few messages had bounced backwards and forwards.
The race started at 7pm, and I needed to feed my dogs, stop at the cashpoint and get myself to Clacton in time. I almost didn't go, but trying to start as I meant to go on, and hearing nothing but pathetic excuses, I decided to just go for it.
I made the start line a couple of minutes after the main pack left, and true to form, had to stop for a little visit to the loo before I got going properly.
My normal running route is about 4k, around some fields and lanes near my house. I was completing this in about 35 minutes, running most of it and then walking the last stretch. It's a nice route, but a bit dicey as if I tripped, I probably wouldn't be found for months. Every time I go out, I have visions of the first Superman film where the kids are playing in the field and don't know they are about to get munched by a combine harvester. I haven't actually seen any combine harvesters in these particular fields, just an exuberant Jack Russell and a couple of huskies. But that's not the point. It's very overgrown, and the nettles are taller than me in places.
So. I set off on my race, and was pleased to receive lots of encouragement from the local kids. In fact I was pleasantly surprised as I was expecting to get shouts of the four lettered variety, but I think they felt sorry for me as I was so obviously slower than everyone else. The marshals were also very cheerful.
The race was out and back along the sea front, and it was a gorgeous evening. I ran the majority of the out stretch, and then set off back. Into a fair old wind. I hadn't even thought about this on the way out, which was a good thing.
On the way back, I ran about half of the distance. I ran a bit, then walked a bit, and marked this by various buildings along the sea front. Eventually I got to the finish line, and was both utterly delighted and completely amazed that I'd run as much as I had.
I found the folks from the triathlon club and introduced myself, and not only did I wangle my way into the team photo but also managed to go home with a bottle of wine - turned out we were the third placed ladies' club.
If I had known wine was given out at the end of the race, I would have taken up running years ago.
Here is our team photo, which appeared on the back page of the Clacton Gazette yesterday. I'm in the blue top with a very pink face.
This week has been a bit of a disappointment (apart from being in the paper). I've had a horrible ear infection which has completely flattened me. Even though I haven't been running for very long, I have really missed not being able to get out.
Addicted already? Could well be.....
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