Stop! Taper time.

It's been a few days since I've posted on this here blog and for that I apologise, folks. Contrary to popular belief, I didn't spend the weekend hospitalised after a violent altercation with a group of road bikers (see last blog); actually, I was down south for a wedding and had a most lovely weekend.

After a good brick session on Friday (110km ride into 6.5km run), I hopped on the train down to London where I spent a great night drinking wine, a little too much brandy and catching up with Marcus and Bianca – old friends from my days living in Spain and two of my all-time fave people.

The following morning, a couple of other friends – Hannah and Jenny – picked me up and we headed down to the New Forest for the wedding of my boss and her bloke...or Claire and Dave as they're also known. The wedding wasn't till Sunday so Saturday avo saw loads of us head off on hired bikes for a ride through the New Forest, taking in a picnic stop, a game of rounders and a pint en route. Although far from a training session, I did count this as active recovery – 25kms counts for something, right? The ride also served to convince anyone who didn't already think I'm insane for doing triathlon/Ironman that I am indeed a bit nuts – needless to say, after years without riding a bike, there were lots of sore legs and bums by the end of the afternoon.

There was a lovely meal and some excellent drinking done that evening and then, bright and early the next morning, I headed out for a long run. And what a joyful experience that was. I started out following the route we'd cycled the previous day, but then got a bit lost...and didn't care a jot. I ran through woods, fields, along paths and off-road. When one path ended, I decided there and then which way to continue. I hopscotched puddles like small lakes, raced dogs out being walked, ran after the wild ponies that live throughout the New Forest...I passed people having picnics, folks playing rounders and frisbee, horseriders, bikers, lumberjacks, horse-drawn carriages, mushroom pickers...it was amazingly good fun. So much so, that by the time I got back to my digs in Brockenhurst (thanks in part to my awesome Garmin 310xt GPS watch – it doesn't have full maps but can show you the direction and distance to where you started – and worked fine even when I was under a thick canopy of trees), I'd run 21k and averaged around 5:30/km pace, which isn't bad at all when most of the run wasn't on roads and involved gates, styles, marshes and puddles. I also felt fresh as a daisy coming back and could have run the whole thing again without much bother at all – in fact, I'd have loved to!

It's something I'm going to try to incorporate into my training when I get back to Dubai too. Obviously, beautiful green forests are in short supply over there but I think it's important to maintain the fun of running/working out. Rather than commit to a route or distance, I'll try to just head out and run without such tight plans - I'm also going to try some mountain/wadi runs and will continue to hit the beach for some great barefoot sessions kicking up water as I run along the sand. 

So, the next couple of days: beautiful wedding, overindulging (on meat and Guinness), long day of trains and coffee shops, finally home.

Today, I did a two hour ride on pretty easy terrain and a shorter but faster swim session than usual this evening – and with that, the two week taper into Ironman Wales has officially begun. I know that I'm going to start second-guessing my readiness and be tempted to fit in some harder sessions here and there but I also know that's pointless – it's all about reducing the volume, upping the intensity and getting plenty of rest.

I reckon that could all be easier said than done. But, for now, I'm embracing the taper.

12 days and counting...

The Times They Are A Changing

So, what exactly happened to me on Tuesday? Well, I really enjoy being self-coached and, thanks to asking for lots of advice, reading everything I can get my hands on and a little trial and error in the past, I think I’ve done alright until now. Not just in designing a programme to stick to unthinkingly, but also thinking on my feet on days when I have to roll with the punches.

That wasn’t the case on Tuesday. A busy week finishing up in work and the knowledge that I’d be travelling to the UK and spending the weekend at a wedding in Cornwall meant that I was perhaps blinded by the ambition to squeeze a full week of training into the first three days of the week. Big error!

I managed two quite high intensity sessions on Monday (sprint runs and hill reps on the bike). It’s the kind of day that should be followed by a rest day. But no, I decided to follow it up with a long run of 18k on Tuesday morning – this after a couple of weeks that proved nothing if not that I couldn’t cope with the heat and long runs anymore. I don’t know why I tried it – my legs were tired and the heat had been so bad that I was actually enjoying runs on the treadmill (previously my sworn enemy!). Predictably, it ended in disaster as I limped my way to 10k.

I was angry with myself – both for trying at all and for failing. A steady 10k on the treadmill in the evening helped ease that a little.

Cut to today. I arrived back in good old Blighty and, after throwing down my cases, headed out for a run. Now, I had 20k in my legs from two days ago and had only four hours of plane-seat sleep under my belt, not to mention a total of 16 hours  of planes, trains and buses, so it was hardly ideal preparation. I hit a local trail first off, ran through the nearby country park – lots of unsteady ground. I then wound my way downhill to the local town and out from there along a long, steady incline that climbed for 8km as wind and a little drizzle flew into my face. Turning off the main road to cut through farm lanes and villages, after 21k I faced Trial Hill – a 700m climb at an incline of as much as 18%. It was tough, it was very hilly (wow am I not used to hills!) and it was awesome fun. I got home exhausted but had enjoyed the whole thing.

I held a steady 5:30/km pace so the cooler weather didn’t result in a superhuman change to my running (generally doing around 6/km in Dubai heat) but Iwas definitely more comfortable at that pace and felt like there’s more to come when I get acclimatised. My throat did take something of a beating – it’s used to breathing in air that’s at least twice as hot and infinitely more humid!

So, nice long, hilly ride tomorrow. Can’t wait. And just one more 2hr run to go too – that’s being reserved for the New Forest next week. 

The whole Ironman thing is starting to feel very real.

24 days and counting...