Monday, 24 February 2014

Chapter 4 - I join at Triclub....a revelation!


Training Training Training it's all about the Training.

So to recap I’m now training for the training that will help me train for the Triathlon.  Good that’s clear.  So I go along to my local Tri Club - whole new world and sect of people.  It’s great because you can meet like minded people you know people who are doing Iron Men challenges, junior GB squad, I nod as if that’s perfectly normally to be training at this level  - OH FUCK! 

TRICLUB - SALMON FISH FARM

Drill Practice
I go along to meet the membership manager of my local Tri-Club, at Hampton Open Air Pool at 9pm at night - yes “open air” pool. It looks like I imagine hell to look with steam rolling off it in the darkness.  The session is for an hour; it’s dark, that’s a saving grace as I timidly step into the pool in my new non-see-through swimsuit.  The coach asks me to do 4 x 36m lengths to warm up. I opt for breaststroke purely to warm up you understand- mid-way through my 2nd length I get asked to move down 2 lanes. I continued with breaststroke for the next length - YOU! what me? YES goto the end lane.  Think they’ve sussed my level of competence out quite quickly.
You know those salmon farms where all the fish are flapping around close to the surface in a frenzy? That’s what it looked like with everyone thrashing up and down the lanes doing their warm ups - funny no-one else seemed to be doing breast stroke like me!

DRILLS A REVELATION 

Hampton HELL open air pool
So here we are in the last lane on the left where we do drills. A bit like when you start an aerobics class where the instructor shouts instructions and it seems everyone else in the class knows exactly what they’re doing - the whole class sashays right you turn left.  I was struggling to understand exactly what I was supposed to be doing. Then the biggest revelation since I found out there was no such thing as the tooth fairy and that Louis Spence was gay, you breath out under water.  WTF ????? My very patient instructor says, “You need to blow bubbles out under water then take a breath”. Not sure what was happening in swimming pools in the ‘70s when I was having lessons (lets not go there again!) but I was always taught take a deep breath - swim - and come up for air when your lungs are bleeding. I hate scuba diving where you can hear yourself breathing so now not only did I have to breath every 3 strokes but I was blowing bubbles (like Michael Jackson). 
Bubbles

After 2 lengths where I choked spluttered bubbled, gasped, tried not to cry, kept going, alternated between front crawl, doggy paddle, trusty breast stroke and treading water I made it back to the shallow end.  Phew I got away with it, good job it was dark.
Instructor: YOU!
Me: What me? (I bloody knew he meant me).
Instructor: Yes you - go over there hang onto the rail and just blow bubbles under water. Subtext= you fuckwit.
Mortifying! - I asked him if he’d rather I just got into the paddling pool and stopped fucking up his drill lessons. He laughed half-heartedly. Meanwhile the rest of the “last lane on the left team” swam around me as I floated like a turd in the Mediterranean. The look of disdain on their faces meant I might as well have been a turd.  I did make a friend he had the same look of fear on his face as me - an ally we both agreed the bastards all looked like they knew what they were doing. I’ll never recognize my ally again though as he had goggles and a swim hat. Might have been David Walliams in training for all I know.
At 10pm the torture was over. I practically ran into the changing room, not just from mortification but because the ground was freezing on a cold January night. (Did I mention it was mid-January, it was 10pm and it was outside and it was dark?) This is important.

CHANGING ROOM BANTER WITH MY NEW TRICLUB PALS

In the changing room they were all talking PBs, half marathons, 10k’s. Like minded people? Mmmmmmm.
There was chocolate brownie on offer in the swimming pool foyer afterwards though which was a definite plus after all the burned KCALs.  And so I conversed knowledgably with my new Tri-Club teammates about PB’s Iron Men challenges, Marathons and Turbo Bikes. Did I fuck! There was a familiar face in the crowd who had been in my NCT group, the last time we’d seen each other we’d both got our tits out in the local Costa Coffee ……breastfeeding! So we talked about the children and ate cake…..just like NCT old times!

In the words of Roy Castle “Dedication’s what you need”.
The legend that was Roy Castle and his 1970s horn
So this was to be my new thing to do on a Wednesday night, training ready for my Tri-Camp in March so that I didn’t look like a….well a fuckwit. I had great intentions. That was 4 weeks ago - number of times I’ve been since = 0.  Well in my defense the next Wednesday was my lovely friend Jo’s birthday and the lure of the merlot stopped me going. In fact I embraced the lure of the merlot so hard-heartedly that night that I didn’t do much training for the next day either.  Beat myself up with a 10k run on the Friday though.
The next Wednesday - was ever so blowy I was a bit worried the children’s slide might blow into the pool and knock me unconscious. The next week was half term and we’d just got back from Paris and I don’t think a stomach full of fromage is conducive to drill training. And well this week - I’ve not come up with anything yet - but I will! My legs don’t bend that way anymore? Maybe.


A NEW PERSONAL BEST.

Eiffel Tower a gauche
Some French Tart
I think a couple of days in Paris climbing soooooo many steps and queuing endlessly has been plenty adequate training for Tri-Camp. I did a 10k run around Jardin des Tuileries one morning which was really really easy. Obviously a diet of croissants, wine and fromage was conducive to a new PB of 2.45 minutes/km, 10k in 29.18 minutes. Qu'est-ce que c'est?  I must have been more aerodynamic than I thought! (you know what I’m talking about Michelle Danks!) Actually I don’t think France agreed with mapmyride because it also showed that I’d zig zagged around the circuit like a mademoiselle on Pernod and had also taken a dip in the Seine half way around. Which would almost be a Bi-athlon and as we all know I have done none of my activities “consecutively or sequentially” so it was all Boeuf Merde.  OK then 6k with lots of stops for selfies in front of French monuments! (brother Mat no dog poo to report.)

PREPARATION FOR TRICAMP
Got the list through from the lovely TriCamp people.  Few things on the list have perplexed me somewhat: -

Wetsuit

Why would I be needing a wet suit? It’s Mallorca I was planning to be slapping on the sun cream and swimming in my new swimmers, sunbathing in between. So 1 new wet suit duly bought and when it arrives if I look like the picture in it - I’m definitely wearing it out as well! Yeah baby!

Your usual inner tubes and any of your favourite tools with you.

Is there such a thing as a favourite tool? A hammer usually solves most problems including IT issues.  A washing up bowl of water, some chalk and plasters in case of puncture is going to be quite hard to cycle with? Ridiculous people. Think I’ll assume all will be fine with the bike I’m borrowing (kindly sponsored by SunVelo). And at this stage “my usual inner tube” isn’t a term that applies to me.

Nutritional products you’re used to using.

Really? not sure what they’d be then; a packet of custard creams, pork pies, sherbet lemons and hula hoops. Might have to research this further.

AND SO OFF TO TRICAMP....

A few words on the list comforted my heart; Slippers, Warm Socks, PJs, Yoga Room, Den and Snug.  Perhaps not the attitude, oh bugger I should have booked a week in a Spa what was I thinking? Apparently Grayshott Manor does all sorts of extra's. Well I’ll let you know how I get on. I’m sure my brother isn’t laughing at me at all. 

P.S. Bike Bitch Pottsy if you're reading this can you come and take my pedals off my bike please ? 

All content strictly copyright Catherine Jevans 2014.







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