Monday 9 May 2011

Planes, Trains and Automobiles

Well, it's been a taxing few weeks. I've withdrawn from all races I've penned in this year; these include: Ironman Austria, Ironman Wales (technically didn't enter, but meh'), The Beaver Middle Distance, Bleanavon Triathlon, European Triathlon Championships in Spain, European Cross Triathlon Championships in Hungary and a couple local running events. Gutted.

I hold the sole blame on Ironman and the associated training (and my girly core strength, weak arse and tight hamstrings).

I've decided I won't be doing an Ironman for at least a couple years, or until I get physically stronger and balder. May do one before I'm 30...or 50.

A plus from this dark time (not really...the clocks have done forward) have been a week in Majorca with a group of lovely people from England. Proper English people....like Leicester/Loughborough England. You' know, pretend toffs.

My week changed focus before going out. It was mainly a cycling camp for me with some swimming thrown in to ease off the abused saddle area (the bit between your balls and bung hole).

I had no targets in mind (mileage wise) but wanted to cycle everyday. I bought a speedometer before going to log these miles, unfortunately, I forgot to take the magnet; a vital tool to clocking mileage/speed. Without this...I may have well guessed the miles. My guess is roughly thousands, hundreds of thousands maybe (It was actually somewhere around the 350-400 mark)?

Majorca is stunning for cycling, providing you like mountains and Germans. Mountains such as Sa Colobra, Lluc, Puig Major, Soller and The Orient (not the football team) were stunning. I liked Lluc the most...you get thrown out of the hairpins and for a second, you accelerate up hill? No idea...

I think it must the child in me (not literally), but I just enjoyed going up the hill pretending to race? I enjoyed toying with a group of Cardiff Ajax riders. One chap stuck to my wheel for the first couple Km's of the climb then put the gas on to put a gap on me...unfortunately, I didn't have to do much as he kinda went past and blew up? It was a shame as he started going backwards soon after that...even though, I put a little squirt (I'd say boot, but it wasn't that much of a change in speed) on and distanced him for the remainder of the climb. Winner (it wasn't a race...just in my head...I even gave it the "Shooter McGavin" when reaching the top....I know, cool as shit).

The first couple days I didn't really set into my "groove". I'd push too hard on the climbs, then go KABOOOM on the flats on the way home. Two days I got dropped...I even got pushed back into the group by Dave Collins (top 10/15 ranked UK MTB'er apparently?) only to be dropped out the back when he looked away for a split second.

Another error I managed was;

Day 1: HR monitor but no HR strap.
Day 2: HR strap but no HR monitor? (you're impressed, right?)
Day 3: Forgot to start my HR monitor.
Day 4: Boom. Nailed it. (I'm doing the "Shooter McGavin right now)

I'll describe some of the guys on the camp for you (apologies in advance to those who are reading about yourselves):

Richard Jeggo. Lovely chap, completely hairless, fast on the flats, goes backwards on the climbs, swims quickly due to being completely hairless, well groomed, runs very quickly due to being completely hairless, loves speedos, drinks wine, eats porridge and completely hairless. Top bloke, him.

Duncan SS. He's not a Nazi despite the abbreviated surname. Cycles very quickly, runs very quickly, eats fat and weighs nothing, has a tremendous amount of veins...imagine gluing 25 meters worth of green hosepipe to your arms and legs and you get the idea, doing the Norseman Triathlon (I wouldn't even google it, let alone enter) and looks like a handsome version of Peter Ebdon.

Claire SS. She is actually a Nazi. Super organised, cycles far and again, fast, runs quickly, weighs nothing and eats fat (you've probably guessed that she's married to Peter Ebd...Duncan by now, if not, you're an idiot), swims fast and is clearly aroused by veins.

Andy Foster. If you can imagine person with the attributes of Side-show Bob and Patrick Swayze from Point Break...then that's him. He used to do triathlon in speedos and vests. Old school mother fuc...Also enjoys candy penis.

Janette Foster. Talks about poo. A lot.

David Beale. Really nice guy, but I imagine he can't make it through the day without wanting a cuddle. He cycles like a train on the flat, tanks it downhill and does pretty well going up (providing there's a cafe at the top of the climb). He's very patriotic and sat on the Queens face.

Rebecca Sore. Davids other tiny half. She's very small. I'm not sure what height actually qualifies you as a dwarf/midget, but she can't be far off...she has an Ironman tattoo on her calf and smiles. A lot.

Dave & Sara Collins. They ride very fast. Especially David, who turns out to be in the top 10/15 in the UK at mountain biking despite being bald. Nice guys.

Martin Burder. Jesus fuc....Christ. As I've said before, he became my own John Candy (think Trains, Planes and Automobiles). He's a logistical nightmare and I was tempted to hack him into tiny pieces and stuff him in his bike bag. I got lumped with him for the majority of the last day. Next time, I'll lock my room and ignore him. HOW he cycled around the World, I'll never guess. I imagine he only popped out to get milk, then return 18 months later after 24,000 miles of cycling...without the milk.

Anyway, a great week away with some interesting/fun/hairless/Martin Burder people. Thanks for the invite guys!!

I think Martin got home? Last I sae of him, he was cycling to the airport...

Anyway, I've forgotten about what I'm talking about. Err, I think I'm gonna do John O'Groats to Lands End before August since I still can't run.

Oh, and I did a time trial the other day. Despite tasting blood and coughing for a good two hours after the 25 minutes 12 seconds (10 miles), I think...I enjoyed it? Will persevere, although being between by a teenager on a road bike with clip on bars was nearly enough. Not to mention being caught by a guy starting a minute behind me after 5 miles....turns out he's pretty good though. Meh'

That's about it?










































































































































































































































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