An Ironic (not iron) Muppet

Recently I have been considering the changes in my life that endurance sport, specifically triathlon, has brought.  Let's not get too deep here, I haven't solved the meaning of life (I know 42) or anything.

What got me started is that whenever anything comes up or family plans are discussed I now always have a little demon in the back of my brain thinking "mm, how am I going to fit my training around that?".  A classic example is when Flissy and one of her friends decided that they were going to spend a few days in Spain over the upcoming half term.

"No problem at all, go away and have fun," I said.  "Mm, how am I going to fit my training around that?" said my brain.  Before I knew it I was on the phone to my mum to ask her what she was doing over half term.  Of course I had justified it to myself that it would be lovely for her to spend some time with my daughter and they could do lots together.  I may have come to that conclusion anyway, but was the reason I was so quick to think it that she could be around while I was able to train?  Still, it will be nice for them to spend some time together....

Now on to the reason for the title.  I am thinking like this now, but when I had the opportunity to do things like train I didn't.  I am sure an awful lot of people will associate with this but when I was in my early twenties I did a lot of quality sitting on the sofa.  I was a young PE teacher who had fallen on my feet by landing a plum job in Jersey (a small, beautiful island south of the UK for those reading from far afield).  I was in charge of the field hockey programme and played a lot for a local club as well.  Coming off my PE degree I was as fit as a butcher's dog, able to chase a small ball around to my hearts content.

Slowly, over the course of the next 8 years or so, I spent less time actually training and more relaxing.  I was tired after a day teaching outside, I stopped joining in with the warm ups, I was still playing matches so must be getting fit that way, yada yada yada.  What I hadn't cut back on was enjoying the restaurant and bar lifestyle that went with a life in Jersey, especially in the school holidays where I could meet up with friends from hockey who were working in town and have a nice lunch with a few pints.

Before I knew it I was leaving Jersey and gazing at a photo of myself at a recent wedding.  I was sweating, my neck was bulging out of my collar and my belt was clearly under strain.  I had gone from a stripling of 10 stone to a heavyweight at 13 stone.  Trust me, for a little fella like me that is plenty.

Now here I am, struggling to fit in the training I would like to do which, if I had the motivation, I could have easily done in the past.  Triathlon has done this, I am now 11 stone and even carrying a bit of muscle.  Long may it continue....

Triathlon Muppet

The shoe Muppet

I find myself in a tent in my own back garden with my daughter snoring quietly in her sleeping bag beside me.  We visited Flissy doing her Duke of Edinburgh type thing with her kids from school this afternoon and the little un decided she wanted to camp out.  So here we are.

We also had some visitors over the last few days.  I found myself thinking "hmm, it will be great to see them but how am I going to fit in my training?"  I am not sure this is a good thing.  At least I was sensible enough not to articulate that in my wife's hearing.

Back to my ongoing tale of muppetry in triathlon.  September 2012 had finished with the successful fun distance at Warwickshire.  I decided that I might be able to fit in one more event before the season closed and fixed my eyes on the Ferndown sprint tri.  400m swim, 18km bike, 5km run.

It was an early start and the weather was clear and cold, around 2 degrees.  I was up and out of the door by 5.30 and mornings are not my strength.  My swim start time was 7am and I had never swum that early before, mistake number one.  I swam like a brick wrapped in dodgy triathlon shorts, trying to get out of the pool two lengths early into the bargain.  The look on the counter's face was all I needed to get back in.

I ran out of the pool in my tri shorts and the cold hit home as soon as I was out of the building.  My bike was about half way down the rack and by the time I got there my feet were already frozen.  I had elected to use the same tactics that I had in the previous two races - bike shoes already clipped onto pedals.  This slowed me down even further as I ran with my ice block feet to the bike mount area.  I noticed other people putting on socks and gloves too.  Hadn't thought of that.

Still, I jumped onto the bike and hared off, feet on top of shoes.  As I tried to slip my feet in something didn't seem right.  I looked down and all I could do was laugh, my bike shoes were clipped onto the wrong pedals.  Left on right and vica versa.

There was nothing for it other than to stop, get off, take the shoes off and put them on the correct feet. Muppet!  By the time I got back to transition all feeling had left my extremities and it took me a full lap of the run to get any back.  It's a very strange feeling to run on two lumps of concrete where your feet used to be.

My overall time was a pedestrian 86.23 minutes.  Triathlon had brought me back down to earth with a bump.

Ferndown Muppet rating: 5 (counting, shoes (3), frozen bits)

Triathlon Muppet

Muppetry of the bell kind

My ever so kind brother has reminded me of some extra muppetry that went unreported in my last post regarding the Warwickshire Fun Triathlon.  To keep good order I will report this to you now....

In order to 'save weight' on my bike I decided to take my bell and a few other bits and bobs off and leave them at home.  As we arrived at the Holiday Inn and the bike came off the car Flissy decided to ask where the bell had gone.  "Isn't it part of the Highway Code?" She asked,  "oh never mind, I'm sure it will be fine."

Alarms of course began to ring and I went straight out and bought a new bell.  Couldn't find one that would fit on the bars properly but it seemed to stay on ok without being screwed on.  The Gonzo moment with the goggles followed later in the evening (see last post) and the bell was forgotten.

Up nice and early my brother and I set off with the family and his girlfriend to the event.  The bikes went onto our cars and we drove into Stratford.  As we succeeded in parking in the fraught car park at the sports centre we took them back off again.

"Where is your bell?" Said Flissy.

Updated Muppet Rating: 3

Triathlon Muppet

Glorious muppetry

This is where I get to look back at my glory day of triathlon.  Trust me when I tell you that I can never do better than when I took part in the Warwickshire Fun Triathlon on 30th September 2012.  There was also some muppetry of course!

I had roped one of my brothers in this time as well, my friend Andy couldn't make this particular one.  David had gone the whole hog:  New bike, shoes, trainers etc so there was no advantage gained from equipment.  There was one area that I had the upper hand though, he was a very poor swimmer who hated to put his head in the water.  He had done some work on it but was still using a bit of head-up, gentle breast-stroke.  I say he was a poor swimmer because, despite still doing breast-stroke, he is now as fast with that as I am with my front crawl.

The whole family went up to Stafford the night before and we stayed in a Holiday Inn or some such hotel.  It was there that the Gonzo tendencies once again reared their ugly head.  David and I went through all of our equipment and laid it out ready.  Bike, cycling shoes, trainers, shorts, top, tracksuit, goggles......  Goggles?

I could picture them sitting nicely in my usual swimming bag at home.  I looked at my watch and tried to avoid looking at the smirking brother.  Where was I going to get goggles at 11.30 on a Saturday evening.  "There's a Tesco's over the road," mentioned a despairing Flissy who was spotting my mounting despair as I contemplated some of my own head-up breast-stroke.  Off I ran at race pace.

The lady at the desk in Tesco's gave me a withering gaze and then called over someone else.  then a further two staff members were called over and soon there was a whole team come to gather around the muppet.  The last lady saved me.  "I think we have a pair out the back."

Her rummaging produced a pair of cheap Zoggs in a battered old box.  I have no idea where she produced them from but her punishment was to get a massive hug and kiss on the cheek from me.  I could still hear them all laughing as I wandered out of the store.

The race itself went remarkably well.  A solid 200m snake swim followed by a silky smooth transition onto the bike.  A tough 23km ride through some positively dangerous roads in windy conditions.  Then a solid 2.5km run.  This triathlon malarky is easy!  David did really well in his first attempt and I could tell that there was going to be some serious competition from him and Andy in the future.

The amazing part of the whole thing is that my time of 72.52 minutes was the quickest of all in the 35 to 39 age group.  This is the first and last time I will ever 'win' a triathlon!  I was on cloud 9 and as soon as I got home I looked to squeeze another one in before the end of the season.  Little did I know that the Triathlon Muppet was getting ready to appear with a vengeance.......

Warwickshire Fun Triathlon muppet rating:  2 (forgotten goggles)

Triathlon Muppet

The muppet marches on

What is it with the weather we have had since last May.  It seems like as soon as I decided to take up triathlon it has rained, or snowed, or been as cold as polar regions in March.

I set off on the bike this morning on my last day in Wales.  It was positively balmy at 10 degrees or so and the sun was even trying to peak through.  I was on a fairly short blast through the hills (which makes me sound fast) and was enjoying the ride.  I turned at the furthest point of the route and was confronted by a massive black cloud in the distance.  Maybe I could beat it back to base?  No chance, soaked to the skin and careering down hills with dubious control from wet brakes.  I am beginning to think that the sound of rain bouncing off my cycle helmet is the normal harmony of a day out.

Flissy was pleased when I put the wet, muddy bike in the boot of our new car to bring it all the way home to the south coast.  Well it can't ride on the back of the car, it might get rained on!

Muppet rating: 1

Triathlon Muppet

Muppet in the making

I have just returned from an extremely damp run through the hills around Berriew in mid-Wales.  As I was labouring up steep slopes and trying not to fall over coming back down them I wondered why I was training like this.  After all, the only thing I would previously have been thinking about in this part of the world was how pleasant the glass of red in my hand was.  My brother and sister in law always keep an outstanding table!

The unwise commitment I had made in May of 2012 had led me to an early morning get up in mid August.  The chiropractor had done a remarkable job on my back and I actually went into the novice triathlon in better shape than I had been in for years.  I had a new bike (a Specialised Allez Elite no less) and some proper running trainers.  Looking around at others taking part also made me feel better about myself, a lot of them were pretty ordinary sorts and there were all shapes and sizes.  My wife Flissy and daughter were in tow and we met up with my friend Andy.

What we didn't realise was that the sprint competitors were going off first and that we would have quite a lengthy wait before the start of the novice event.  Andy and I sat around in the sunshine resplendent in our newly purchased tri shorts, bellies hanging quietly over waistbands.  In hindsight we would realise that we had chosen the hottest day of the year for our baptism.

A snake swim of 250m (ducking under lane ropes and all sorts), a cycle of 12.5km, and a run of 3km.  Now it seems all very short, but at the time I was wondering if my body could cope.  Surprisingly for all concerned everything went a very smoothly, even the part where I had pre-clipped my bike shoes onto the pedals and secured with elastic bands.  I had picked this up from YouTube clips, you leap onto (or gingerly climb on in my case) and pedal with your feet on top of the shoes for a bit.  The elastic bands snap and you slip your feet in, no problem.  This went really well and I surmised that it was the way forward, something that would come back to bite me in the future!

I finished in a time of 51.39 which I was very pleased with, particularly the run where I was quite high on the leader board (lots of people had wilted in the sun).  Andy also did well and came in not far behind, particularly as he was on a mountain bike.  He even survived Flissy shouting at him to "stop faffing" in transition.

So no muppetry at all, this triathlon stuff was easy.  But of course that couldn't be the case.  I got home, stripped off and looked forlornly into the mirror at the pink lobster gazing back.  Perfectly white where the shorts had been.  My Gonzo moment this time had been leaving the sun cream sitting nicely on the bathroom sink.

Ringmer novice triathlon Muppet rating - 1 (sunburn)

Triathlon Muppet

In the beginning, there was muppetry

It all began with signs of things to come.

Some may disagree with me but in the world of sport I have been well organised.  I have captained and coached several teams and generally know what is what.  But the early days of embarking on a voyage into the individual sport of triathlon proved I had a whole different side.

It started before it even started.  I made the commitment on a boozy night in May of 2012 (how many others can say the same), by entering a novice triathlon in August in Ringwood, Sussex.  Smartphones are wonderful things but they do allow you to do things on the spur of the moment.  It was only the next day that I looked at my different capabilities:

I was pretty sure I could swim two lengths front crawl without having a cardiac arrest.  Any more was questionable.

I only had a hybrid bike that I got for my birthday.  My bike skills before that mainly involved the Grifter I had in the 1980's.

I could run a bit, but this was based on two 10km races completed when challenged by my brothers and dad.  My fitness was all about chasing a ball over short distances and nothing to do with endurance.

A fundamentally low base.  Throw into that my new found muppetry and things were bound to be interesting.

Two weeks later and I was laid on a chiropractors table with a seriously locked up lower back.  When playing hockey I had always done a full warm up before the game with the lads in the team.  Of course now, despite knowing all the sports science, I was just jumping on a bike or just leaping out of the door for a run.  My body didn't like it.  The muppet tendencies had started even before I had got near a race.

Was this such a good idea, I thought.  Then my mate Andy called and told me he had entered the race  as well having heard all my bravado and enthusiasm.  No backing out now.....

Triathlon Muppet

Muppetry at it's finest

So, here I am on my 39th birthday and what did I decide to do, a 40km bike ride through the Welsh hills.  The simple fact that my bike just had to be in the car and ready to go as soon as we made our way up here tells a story about how things have changed over the last 8 months or so.  Back then the main thing I would have been making sure was in the car was a case of wine.

The triathlon buffoonery began in August 2012 when I did my first ever novice event, but maybe I will go through that another time.  I have named myself 'Triathlon Muppet' due to the fact that I have had some absolute howlers so far in this wonderful new world.  A moderately decent hockey player who had never done or understood any sort of endurance sport my early attempts have been somewhat comical.

Take last Sunday for example:

400m pool swim.  All going well, I overtook a lady doing some half decent breast stroke and was in turn overtaken by a bloke who had better front crawl than me (not hard).  One side of my goggles was leaking but that was fine apart from the fact that it felt like someone was holding my eye open and pouring neat chlorine into it.  Then the bloke got out and I suddenly thought "I've counted my lengths wrong, I should be getting out!" So I stop half way down the length, look around dumbly and decide that I had better carry on.  Then I stop again at the end of that length, should I get out now and run around the pool?  No, the lady is still going I had better get going.  Family on the balcony are also going ballistic.  Turns out I had counted right in the first place.

Transition 1.  Swim to bike.
I run to transition and efficiently put on jacket, socks (it was cold), bike shoes, sunglasses and helmet.  I grab the bike and wave at the family banging madly on the windows on the balcony of the sports hall.  It's only when I run out that I realise why they were shouting.  The belt with my number on it is still on the floor of transition.  Sheepishly returning to get it I wonder if I will be disqualified for going through the chip timing mechanism 4 times rather than two.

21km bike ride.

Transition 2.  Bike to run.
The bike ride had gone really well, no calamities at all.  Things are looking up.  I run into transition and try to get my jacket off, zip well and truly stuck!  Ok, I will run with it on.  "Just take it off as you run and we will pick it up for you!" Shouts a despairing wife.  Good idea I think and set off to run.  "Shoes!" She yells.  "Shoes!" Shouts my 7 year old daughter.  Ah yes, I still have bike shoes on.

The run. 5km.
I am eventually running in the right shoes and have managed to get my jacket off.  Nothing can go wrong from here.  I find myself running alone having overtaken a couple of people struggling along. I follow some tape around a corner and then go around it at the end. After going around a building I see people running back towards me. My arms go up and the fit looking guy approaching laughs at me. "Round the lake mate," he calls. At least I have cheered him up. I retrace my steps and realise I should have kept going left rather than go around the end of tape. Only I can go the wrong way on a simple 2.5km loop of a field and lake. Odd looks appear on the faces of the triathletes I overtake for the second time. As I complete the first lap and call to Flissy that I had gone the wrong way the roll of the eyes was monumental.

I did finish.

My mate Andy beat me by a couple of minutes but I still managed to beat the middle brother (I am eldest of 3). One day bro!

Next tri muppet outing is on 6th May in Tonbridge. Oh, and Welsh hills are steep!

Triathlon Muppet