It’s not you, it’s me…


I’m really only posting to close off the week.

All told, the week’s training has picked up. We had a bit of a slump the previous week, so I was keen not to let things slide. In keeping with the rather random plan of trying to get in two of each event per week, plus a rest day, but in no particular order, I had a decent swim on Thursday morning, with 2k in an hour.

I followed that up with a Friday evening swim after a busy day in work with a 1 mile dip in the pool in 45 minutes.

On Saturday, with no cover around to get out on the bike, I opted for a run instead. There are various theories about how cycling and running compare, and in the end, who cares really; if you’re training for a triathlon you’ll be doing both, regardless. Roughly speaking, some folks say it’s about 3-4 times the distance on the bike, if you want to compare running to cycling.

Yesterday, I finished off the week with a run of 19.5k in a nice slow time of 2.04:25, which is a 6:23 pace. Certainly, I would not have covered the distance on the bike I am suggesting that little formula would predict. On Monday, I did a 2 hour cycle and managed 53.5kms. But there is an effort level that makes up the difference; and even noting the suggested calorie burn as being far higher on the bike, I can quite categorically state that the run was tougher to do. Without a degree in physics or PE, I suspect the fact that you are sitting on your arse and taking the weight off on the bike has a lot to do with it. Let’s not forget, running is a continuous attempt at defying gravity, with every step. And the universe does not reward you for such intemperance. The wheel was invented for a really splendid reason. Embrace it!

It’s all rather moot anyway.

So, it’s Sunday. It’s been pissing rain all day, and I am having a rest day. I am also keeping an eye on the left hamstring. Nothing happened per se, but I can tell there’s a little something there, so obviously keen not to do any damage.

As it’s a rest day and I have no training to do, I came up with another one of those really irritating T-shirt slogans.

“I’m not trying to beat you…
I’m trying to beat me…”

That’s for when I crawl over the line at the end of the ironman in August. Yeah it’s up there in the ‘fun’ stakes along with “If you see me collapse, pause my Garmin”, which is as irritating as a dose of cystitis. And anyway, everyone knows Garmin’s auto-pause.


In other news, the footie continues. Not that anyone told Ireland, who forget how to actually play the f**king game yesterday, and coughed up three goals, all without one shot in anger. Clue: the goal thingie is made up two white poles sticking out of the ground, with another on top, and then a net thrown over the back. Put the small round thingie into the net.

The only saving grace about following Irish football is humour. Here is another classic example…

It is widely rumoured the coach went into the Iceland dressing room at half time and said “Go on, my son!” Which caused much confusion…

P.S. You know you’re running a fair bit when you forget you did 7.5k. That’s probably because I followed it up with a 19.5k later that day. It was an early run with Mark on Saturday morning, and it was pacey enough. Time for another parkrun, methinks…

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