From an F to a G and a Cup

It's now Twixtmas as Aunt Marge likes to call it. Typically a time to reflect and perhaps start to train again. With this in mind I managed a very hilly 3.5 hour ride on a bitterly cold day. A very enjoyable ride and a great feeling after to know that I can manage this duration of ride without any problems.

Twixtmas was also the time to run hard for the first time in ages at the Chevin Chase and then try and repeat a good run again 2 days later at the Jolly Holly Jog. This time chasing Mr C (Singapore 70.3 TeamAVIVA team mate) who was dressed as a Reindeer. Chasing Rudolph, legs said "no thanks". A good run by Mr C all the same.

Twixtmas is also birthday time. This year it means I move from age group "F" (30-34) to "G" (35-40). "You're not 35 yet" I hear you cry. It's all to do with birthdates. It appears the 30th of December just doesn't cut the mustard.

And now for the cup. Mrs H was doing some t'interweb digging and discovered that I won the Duathlon National League. Not to be confused with the Mazda National League (More of a Grand Prix Series), the National League is akin to British Sports Car manufacturing. Instead of someone tinkering in their shed to produce a Noble, Caterham etc. A Triathlon Stato tinkers with his PC and looks at lots of events. There's a shiny trophy in the post.

Merry Christmas

On Sunday "Bad Santa" climbed aboard his training bike and headed through the rain into the hills with a Reindeer and what appeared to be a lepricon. The Grantley Arms provided shelter, food and 3 pints of Festive Folly. When we were finally wetter on the inside than the outside we pedalled home.

I'd like to wish the reader a merry Christmas and a happy new year.

Good days and........ Good days

Saturday: A day of heavy rain and heavy marble. Time to fit the new fireplace and wait for the rain to do it's thing.

Sunday: A cold day out on the bike to one of the best pubs in the dales for a few Daleside Morocco Ales and a Kwak with tri club chums. Good food, company and then a nice ride home. Well I was in no fit state to drive.

Then on to the start of Christmas at Chez Hamilton. Wrapping pressies whilst watching Sports Person(ality) of the year. Person(ality) cos Nigel Mansell won it one year. No personality there.

Man on the moon, splitting of the atom, Coronation Street on five times a week.
I said "it would never happen", "Not in my lifetime". I thought, I'd never see the day. Easy to say now but at the time I really meant it.

It happened once before but that was back in the halcyon days. Everyone rode a bike, everyone knew Tom. Today everyone drives a car and nobody seems to have a clue. Or so I thought.
Sport Personality of the year won by Chris Hoy. That's right, the british public voted for a cyclist. The cyclist won.

No too long ago I read Mr Tom by Chris Sidwells. Simply the story of Tom Simpson. Yes Mr Tom did die on the slopes of le Mont Ventoux, yes he had taken amphetamines but was widely acknowledged that he was "the type" to have ridden himself to oblivion without the Mickey Finns. Anyway, I'm sat here typing and not judging.

Mr Tom became world road race champion, won Classics such as Milan San-Remo and my favourite, The Tour of Flanders. More surprisingly, he won Sports Personality of the Year. I recall being amazed when I read that he had won. That there was a time the British public could make something like that happen. That was then, it could never happen now. Could it?

Don't be Cross

It was a day of 2 halves. My best man and I paced our better halves around the Abbey Dash 10Km run in Leeds in the morning followed by a brief flirtation with Cyclo-Cross in the afternoon.

The Abbey Dash 10Km
Not a run on the Bank of Santader but one of the UK's best 10Km running races. Neither Mrs H nor I had been well of late but we kept our sick notes to ourselves. We lined up in Leeds hoping to get Mrs H round the course under an hour. This was after we'd battled the snow to get to the start line. It was cold but the sun shone and 58:22 seconds later we crossed the line. Well I crossed the line Mrs H loves a sprint finish so 58:18 and the bragging rights were hers. All on the forefoot and I can still walk ok today.

Cyclo-Cross
For the uninitiated Cyclo-Cross is racing round the woods and fields on a bike that resembles a road bike but has a few modifications. For me, it simply meant pootling round on my mountain bike. When I say pootling I actually mean spending 1 hour in the red wondering if I'm going to see my lunch again. This being the UK there was lots of mud, leaves and even a flight of steps to run up whilst carrying your bike.

British mud, thick, claggy and very very heavy. My MTB managed to gain weight at an alarming rate throughout each lap. The plus side of this was I had to stop a few times to remove mud from behind the forks. For the top men there is no such problem as they jump onto a "fresh" bike each lap that has been cleared of such mud by a gaggle of parents, friends and even WAGS (Mrs H, take note) armed with generators and mobile pressure washers.

Now this isn't really how cross is meant to be. I've seen it on telly, races in Belgium that are so very very fast. Usually very flat, a few obstacles and even some tarmac. In the past the big races have even had a section of the course that runs through the beer tent........... I'll type that again, through the beer tent. Now you're talking.

This was a far more back to basic approach to cross. Getting changed in the car park and no showers. As my bike gained weight it became more difficult to shoulder it and carry it up the flight of steps. This went from being some sort of endurance based session to a fusion of endurance plus strength and conditioning.

Mrs H was glad to hear me announce that I was glad I'd done it but was in no hurry to repeat the experience....... unless there's a beer tent.

Cross? I was too knackered to be angry!

Mudman

Turned up, did it, went home.

Mudman - an off-road duathlon.

I'm not too good at running off-road at speed. I worry about my ankles and end up mincing along. As for the MTB side of things. My legs didn't play ball but it became apparent quite early on that this isn't my forte. However, it is something I enjoy doing for a bit of a laugh.

Eighth isn't a bad result and with my form.... It'll do for me.

Back to reality, from Mudman to Iron(ing)Man on Sunday night with a pile of laundry.

In the words of Elvis (on the KitKat advert), "I ain't gone anywhere, I'm just resting"

Changingman: "The Foreman"

Who's your favourite striker? Michael Owen, a Barnsley Miner...... certainly not a heel striker.

My normal running style is one where the heel hits the floor first and the foot rolls forward until you are onto your toes. The heel actually acts as a brake and potentially slows you down.

Time for a change. The winter months seem the ideal opportunity to change my running style from heel striker to forefoot runner. I'll continue the Paul Weller theme as I look to make changes to training etc. but hope to avoid any "Running Style Council" gags.

The forefoot running style is where the forefoot makes contact with the ground and the heel makes very brief contact with the ground. This style is typically favoured by faster runners and will hopefully lead to faster times for me too. It's actually how the body is designed to run. A heel striking style has only been adopted because running shoes will permit this style. If you took your shoes off and ran you'd be forced to run on your forefoot or fracture your heel bones. Don't try this at home kids.

It does feel more natural and I'm starting with some 20 - 25 minute runs to break myself in.

Hopefully my glass feet will prefer it.

"I'm the Changingman.... What I can't be today, I can be tomorrow"
Paul Weller

Normal service has been resumed

Back from holiday
- No training schedule
- No training plan to update
- No prescribed sessions
- No worries

Cafe/Social Season
- All exercise on my terms and conditions.
- As much or as little as I want
- Steady away, it's the cafe season after all
- Cafe rides optional, cake mandatory
- Went to see the Kaiser Chiefs (on school night).
- West to see the Last Shadow Puppets (on school night)
- DIY planned........doh! It was destined to catch up with me eventually


It might even be time to put some weight on for winter. Mrs H is fed up of playing point at the protruding pelvis and a bit of weight will see me through the winter. Bring on the cakes.

I'm sure the novelty will wear off.
......oh yeah, I have entered the Howarth Mudman Off-Road Du. Just for fun you understand.
Can't put my feet up for ever although I'm struggling to even think about races for next year.

UPDATE: Mrs H has pointed out that this isn't really "normal service" being resumed. I actually am adopting the habits of "normal people". She also reminded me that I am not really a cake person.

World Champs

Rimini
Arrive in the city of winds, at least I'll feel at home here. Time to register and then go to the Pasta Party. Time taken to suss out the race course and meet up with Matt & Emma, regulars on GB trips. We hit the old town and tucked into some fantastic local food without a tourist in sight...... except us.

By race day the winds had dropped a bit and the sun was shining. It was actually quite warm by the time I was lining up. This is what all the hard work was about. I made a deal with my body, "give me 2:10 of your best and after, I'll treat you to a holiday".

The gun sounded and we were off. My cycling background kicked immediately and I had my elbows out to generate some space as 300 athletes went head long down the start area straight into a bottleneck. It was chaos, someone hit the deck, someone lost a shoe, bodies everywhere. I already knew the run was closer to 11Km than 10. I was running as fast as I could and my heat rate was through the roof. I had got my pre-race nutrition wrong, I could feel water sloshing around in my belly. Four laps of this twisty circuit and I could pick up my bike. The barefooted run out of transition was nearly as long as the opening run.
Onto the bike and I'm paying to my strengths. I'm constantly passing riders trying to make sure they don't draft me. Then all of a sudden, someone passes me. I can't recall the last time that happened but this is the world championships, there are no clowns here. Focussing back on the job in hand I can see a US athlete called Kyle Brady (name and shame) drafting, when he can't stay on the wheel anymore, he swings off, has a drink and looks backward for the next wheel to draft. When I passed him I was so close to the cones that he had little space to draft and I ensure that I went past him fast and clean. Anyway, at some point he incurred my displeasure. It was good to see him penalised twice by the "draft busters" during the bike. The second run was strange. It was a hot day but I started to feel very cold. I was covered in goose bumps. The second run is always ugly but the legs seemed to be going round ok and I was moving as fast as I'd hoped for.
Entry into the finish area and under the finish gantry was a great feeling. The photo of me immediately after seems to align to how I felt just before I keeled over. Emotions of feeling sick and cold were mixed with relief and happiness that the race had been a success despite the level being considerably higher than that encountered at the Europeans in 2007. I had left everything I had on the course and felt completely wasted at the finish. I'd given a year of my life to this race and was now physically and emotionally knackered. However, there was still the after-race party to go to. At this point I couldn't even consider eating let alone having a beer. 37th out of 90 in my age group. Mid-Table obscurity maybe but you had to get here in the first place and many didn't.

I had a few hours to recover and get washed up for the aftershow party AKA the Richard Findlow show. A large screen was used to show some of the high-lights of the race and Richard, another Leeds & Bradford Tri Club member was very prominent. Wine was acquired from dry tables and then onto Mucho Macho Mucho Macho for a few beers. Into bed at 2am. Job done.

Race over - Holidays begin
Time to see the sights of Rimini, Mrs H plus Emma and Matt went for a wander around town. Steps were avoided and coffee was drunk. We might still have been too. Thanks to Matt and Emma for being daft enough to join us for a couple of meals and playing at tourists. You were good company.
Mrs H had booked us into a bike hotel for the next three nights. Hotel Dory, Riccione. What a fantastic treat from Mrs H. I would never have dared suggest going there after the race but Mrs H had already booked. The bikes had their own room in the basement surrounded by other carbon exotica. Everything was included in the price from ride food to post-ride food (2 pasta dishes), bike clothing laundry, eve meal and booze. This place is a must go for any cyclist.
The guided rides took us to the owners villa for a BBQ one day, a long ride in the hills and along the "Strada Panoramica" and a ride to a local farmers for wine, oil and vinegar tasting.
Pack the bikes away Hamilton, it really is time for a holiday. Off to Spoleto for a few days including a day trip to Rome. All roads lead there after all. It wasn't built in a day but we did seem to cover a lot of it in the 8 hours we were there. Definitely on our list of weekends away know if only Mrs H can cope with me saying "all roads lead to.......", "it wasn't built in a day you know" and "nice one, centurion".
Up to Bologna to catch up with the Tenhill intake of 1996. It was good to catch up with my sometime boss Mr M. He and Family living and working in Bologna or Bolo-na as the Americans seem to call it.
Holiday over, fly home and to see that the crunch had become a crisis.

Ask not what your country can du for you....

Training done, bags packed. Rimini here we come.

I was getting flashbacks this morning (aging hippy that I am... not) to when I first heard that the Worlds would be in Rimini. I was at the closing ceremony of the 2007 European Du Championships at Edinburgh. I recall seeing the flyers on the table and thinking how much I'd like to be part of it. Racing abroad (Scotland doesn't count) for GB, in the sunshine and then enjoying some time in Italy after. Can't believe its only a few days away now. Fingers crossed on the sunshine.

Training Flashbacks

• Getting up at 6am in the dark to do bike sessions on the turbo (static trainer) in the garage before going to work
• Run sessions in the evening after doing the turbo sessions mentioned above in the morning
• Going out in the sleet in February for a 3 hour ride and not really noticing it as I was that focussed on the prescribed session
• Lining up at Clumber Park hoping to vanquish the demons of my race there the previous year
• Notching up PB's - Run: 10Km, Bike: Local TT League & 25mile
• Going to weddings - And getting a training session in the following day - Hangover optional
• Running to the Brandenburg Gate on a stag do - Hangover mandatory
• Riding to work in the rain
• Riding home from work in the rain knowing that I had to take the scenic route to complete the prescribed session
• Riding to and from work in the rain....... You get the picture!

So now I'm left to wonder have I done enough? Am I coming off a peak of fitness or am I rested just enough to perform on race day? How much time will I concede on the first run? How much time can I clawback on the bike? How pi**ed will I get on the evening? What's Italian for "Can you swim"?

I guess I'll find out soon enough.

Mrs H: 2009 = one big race, no qualifiers, hopefully somewhere nice. Thanks for your support and patience this year

Full Circle not Grande Boucle

So the blog's over a year old with a readership of just one (not me) which is fair enough, I've written this for me not you. Cheers for reading anyway Drew.

The second ever post on this blog was about a ride in the Rabobank team car at the 2007 Tour of Britain. This year it was a far more sedate affair. Rabo had decided to give it a miss due to last years "Circus" stage and the long transfers between stages.

Rather than Piet and Walter I had Mrs H and Acky Binner for company. A mornings ride in the rain (Thursday training session) was followed up with "sea and land" at a Pickering chippy then onto the final climb of the day at Dalby Forest. My initial thoughts about the race in London was that it has been a procession. However, many of the "big names" who have attended have actually raced rather than just go through the motions as I anticipated. Danilo Di Luca has been very very active and Bo-Selecta from Columbia has been very impressive. Even the Chaudieres from Rock Racing were having a go yesterday.

After doing a Wednesdays training session in the evening it was time to sit down with dinner and watch the stage. Blimey, there was plenty going on and whilst it didn't impact the overall standing it was hugely entertaining. Mrs H hasn't been well and has even been sampling hospital food so training has been shuffled around. Something's are more important than mincing up and down Rimini sea front. Mrs H, get well soon.

Thanks to Mrs H and ABD for a good day out.

What's your favourite summer?

Donna Summer, Bernard Sumner (New Order) or Anne Summers?
Sure as eggs is eggs, it's not the British summer.

On a recent ride into work, getting soaked again it dawned on me that at 08:30 on an August morning in Britain I had my lights on, my feet were cold and the sky was a bruise. On a morning like that I began to wonder why bar staff (Kiwis and Aussies) come to the UK where everything is expensive and the weather is shit.

"What not to wear" - sounds like a programme fronted by Trinny & Susannah but is in fact a debate that takes place prior to each ride. Opt for short sleeves and armwarmers, expect monsoon. Go for a long sleeve jersey and kneewarners, expect something tropical.

With this in mind Mrs H and I headed north to a bike race last weekend. En route we passed other bikers with the ability to receive a lobotomy and then ride for 100 miles on their own up and down the A19....... In the sunshine. Their turning point on the road was about 5 miles before we got to the bit of road we were due to ride on. We arrived at the race HQ, collected our numbers and then proceeded to get soaked dashing back to the car. End result, the race was cancelled due to torrential rain. It wasn't safe to race with the spray generated by passing vehicles. So we headed home, back to the sunshine to replicate the race on a static trainer on the patio in the sunshine. WTF?

I'd always loved the fact that with bike races, the race goes on. No break for lunch, no rain stops play. Think of Bernard Hinault at the 1980 Liege Bastogne Liege race (pic left) when he had to be prized off his bike at the finish cos his hands were frozen to the bars. Snow stops play, bring out the covers, let's pause for lunch.... doesn't happen.

On to Sunday morning. Get up, look out of the window and it's throwing it down. Plan for today was 1 tough hour on the bike, a 10Km race (run) at Tholthorpe and then a steady ride home. Things always look better after breakfast. The sun came out, the run was a scorcher and the tan was topped up on the ride home.

At least you know where you are with British autumn.

Olympic Distance - 19 Days

It seems funny the Olympics being on as Mrs H and I went to the Athens Olympics on our honeymoon.


I've been getting really into the BBC coverage and am now juggling my training with watching the coverage. TV is the new recovery session. Our telly will wonder what the hells going on. Typically it's used for collecting dust but now it's come out of retirement. This weekend training was planned in around the mornings coverage. I was that knackered on Sunday I decided against racing at Allerthorpe and had a day off watching the games. Mrs H put me to shame and went out on her bike. I was knackered and feeling in need of rest and recovery......... and this is only the end of week on. Coach Fi, you one bad lady!

I keep thinking back to what it was like on our honeymoon. Driving into Athens most days for another event. Seeing sports we wouldn't normally go and see such as beach volleyball. Sitting on the beach recovering from the previous late nights spectating or walking to the rowing complex. Driving into the hills and then catching up with the other people on an evening to talk about who had won what or who had seen what. Even watching the Greeks trying to finish off the facilities after the games had started. I kind of wish we were there again but having watched the mens road race on Saturday morning and seeing one chinaman and his dog by the roadside it just doesn't seem the same. Chinese security wouldn't let many of the would be spectators onto the circuit.

So this time it's Tsing Tao rather than Mythos.

From sheeps knackers to Prawn Crackers,
Acropolis Now to Chairman Mau....... you get the picture

Never mind world records. Athens 2004, magic times in deed.

BBC Olympic Coverage: "The Recovery Channel"
16th & 17th Aug (The Golden Weekend)
Bloody hell. Where do I start. We won a bit. Good of other nations to turn up at the velodrome or we wouldn't have had anyone to beat.

18th Aug: Tuckers Luck
Groggy at work after the alarm went off at 3am so that we could watch the womens tri. Not the best of days for the womens team but I think the GB cyclists are more than making up for that abd our over-hyped under performing track and field athletes who seem to be all attitude and no final.

19th Aug: Ali-B, I Salute You
Leeds finest (Alistair Brownlee) shakes the race up in the mens Triathlon. Always good to see Tommy give Johnny Foreigner a good licking. Alistair was giving it big licks until the final 15 minutes when the wheels finally came off his Olympic challenge. The lad's only 20 years old so time is on his side........... unlike some of us. Did he do too much early on in the race? I'm sat in an office at 09:06, he's at the Olympics so what right do I have to comment other than the time invested watching him this morning through bleary eyes. Perhaps he did but it was hugely entertaining and had me on the edge of my seat. The bin-men must have wondered what the hell was going on at 06:20 on a wet Tuesday morning and the shouts of "Come on Alistair" coming from the lounge window.

21st Aug: BMX in the Olympics & Drugs in sport
BMX in the Olympics WTFIT? Great for riding to the shops on. Depending on how far away the shops are I suppose.
Spanish cyclist, weightlifters and now four horses have tested positive. You'd have thought you'd have been able to trust the horses though wouldn't you?

Now it's our turn....
but what the hell do I watch on telly now.
When's the Vuelta? Hola

Ripon Tri: Take Three

Nowt much happened.

Swam quicker than last time

Biked a bit slower than last time (windy)

Ran a bit quicker than last time (including th extra 500m)

Went out for an Italian. Ymmmmmmmm, Pizza

Job done

Of course we du, it's not all work work work Pt II

Mrs B finally got married again and asked us all to attend a good old fashioned British knees up in the land of the rising sausage AKA his stag do, in Berlin.

Bratwursts, beer, cocktails (WTF) and more beer. Well what did you expect?

The Superman outfit was planned whilst the Border Guards hat and gas mask were bought on the way. The gas mask and hat raised an eyebrow when the grooms bag was searched for the flight home. Thankfully there was no explaining to do. Great sense of humour the Germans.
The stag do followed the "traditional recipe". However, what goes on tour........

The Trabant safari was good and provided the opportunity for a bunch of British idiots to drive very old cars with pre-hysteric gear boxes around the capital of the former GDR. Fantastic architecture, bad driving and a smell of two-stroke. As for two-stroke Superman went down a storm in the lap dancing club.

So this was at the end of week one of another block of three weeks training. Whilst it was still short of the planned 60 minute run I did manage a 35 minute run to the Brandenburg gate and back on Saturday morning much to the dismay of the other attendees but i didn't half feel better for it after.

Of course we du, it's not all work work work Pt I

As the very bad NatWest advert went circa 1992.

Some down time indulged in during a recovery week. Another weekend, another wedding. This time we headed north to Bonnie Scotland and Loch Lomond.

Friday - A couple of hours in Glasgow and some time in the sun enjoying the sites.

Saturday - Scots wedding: Pipers, Whiskey & Kilts = Trying not to enjoy the sights

Sunday - a hangover, sighting was difficult

As an aside, Loch Lomond is home to the only curry house in the UK that serves curry dishes that not only look the same but taste the same. Maybe that's not strictly true but Mrs H and I played spot the difference with a Korma and Jalfrezi.

Glesca provided an opportunity to call in at Billy Bilsland Cycles to see Robert Millars 1984 Tour De France King of the Mountains skinsuit. This was the same day the TDF started in Brest. My next three weeks have an additional distraction. The TV is finally getting some use as I become absorbed in all things TDF. The iPod has been ditched at work in favour of the Radio5 coverage courtesy of t'interweb.

Sunday was a trip to Ae forest for mountain biking with head that was fine but was definitely not connected to the rest of my body. Trouble in the message centre. Ae is one of the 7 Staines Forestry Commission owned MTB Trail Centres. This prompted the question, "What's your favourite staine?"

As for the TDF, with all the Sprinteurs, Rouleurs, Barodeurs, Climbers and Time Trialists. I asked Mrs H what sort of ride she'd be in the TDF.

"A good one?" was her response. You can't argue with that.

Time to snap out of this recovery malarky and get back to some serious training.

Next stop, Ripon Tri

Windsor Tri - Tri Wannabe

And so to Windsor, home of the Nokia Windsor Triathlon. You can keep your London Tri with it's biking up and down a dual carriageway and your run around the docks. Give me scenic Windsor every time. Windsor is always a fantastic event, always attracts a good crowd and always attracts good weather.

Mrs H was doing the sprint event which meant a 06:12 start in the water. It was my turn to pay back so I was team bitch for the first hour or two helping my lovely get into her rubber gear and try to keep her calm. The river looked to be flowing fast. This was confirmed by Mrs H when she exited the water and announced at the top of her voice "The current's f**king sh*t". Lovely turn of phrase Mrs H. She made mincemeat of the bike before the run got it's own back. All told, a solid performance and one to be proud of.

Swim: Now there's something quite liberating about meeting rubber-clad, like-minded individuals on the banks of the River Thames at dawn but that was simply the hardest swim I've ever done. Progress was slow and you'd keep seeing the same boat/tree etc as you breathed to the side. Strong currents indeed.

Bike: Blitzed the bike..... as always but had I ridden too hard to produce a good run? Hopefully my lucky comb in transition would put me in good stead. The comb always make its into transition but does generate some funny looks from other athletes.

Run: I came out of T2 at a speed. The cadence felt good but I told myself to ease slightly for the first hill. My run speed feels like it's still some way off as i build for the World Champs but I felt as if I was moving fast out on the course. In the end I was disappointed to have run 40:19 as it felt like a sub-40 run. On the plus side, I ran well off the bike without much run speed in my legs.

So that was the race. Always feels good to be part of something big like Windsor. However, my splits point out that I am clearly a duathlete.

• Swim: 595th
• Bike: 19th
• Run: 56th
• Overall: 83rd out of 1624

Once the worlds are out of the way I think it's time to become a triathlete. I know that as far as pools go the water tastes the same and the tiles look the same but Windsor really did make me realise that Tri is where it's at and that Du's may be a bit of a cop out. I predict a lot of "pool-time" post September.

I have two things in common with Jenson Button - We both drive Honda's and both competed at Windsor. Always nice to stick it to an international playboy though.

Job done - time for lunch by the castle then a few days over near Longleat with my folks. Maybe I could learn a thing about swimming from the Sea Lions.

Results

Photos

Time to tri something else, du something different

In between qualifying and training for the World Champs I will be doing the occasional Tri. After a period of rest, time to let the glass feet sort themselves out and re-aquaint myself with the world of swimming it's time to up the ante.

Despite doing only a small amount of swim training during the Du season, my swimming isn't too bad...... for me. But the proof in the pudding will be the 750 meters against the current at Windsor Tri (June 15th).

It's now time to book flights and accomodation for Rimini so it's time I got my finger out and started training again. I'm one week into the plan and my calves are struggling to remember what running is and my bike legs keep asking when the next cafe stop will be. A Wednesday night test in the rain at the Triangle told me that the legs weren't in too bad shape ......... or maybe just a case of the wind being kind. Either way it feels good to get back into the routine and discipline of it all. It's not just me either, Mrs H is gearing up for Ripon Tri so the roads around Beckwithshaw are now her stomping ground. Good job she has her "bike bitch" to keep her on the road.

Wedding Season 2008: Part I

Du Season over, let the wedding season begin. I've written this as part one as I'm sure there's bound to be a sequel.

Weddings are an endurance sport. With seven wedding invites this year, going down the aisle is clearly a marathon and not a sprint.
Carbohydrate drinks are out the window. Alcohol is the new drink of choice but re-hydration also plays a vital role.
We're already three weddings in. By the end of May we'll have attended 4 weddings in 2008 and three alone in the month of May.

As for wedding invites.......
After sitting by the wedding cake at a wedding (cake consisted of numerous "cup cakes" - We called'em buns in my day) the bride wanders over with a tray of "cup cakes" and informs me that "I've noticed that you've been eyeing them up all day. Do you fancy one". That's what I call a wedding invitation. The buns were very good too.

The following day Mrs H dragged me out onto the bike for a few miles. If you were riding the Etape du Dales, I was the bloke riding towards you unable to plot a steady course emitting odours of last nights beer. I've never been drunk in charge of a bicycle before although I think maybe the bike was in charge.

Ashbourne: The final fling

Final Du of the (British) season. The last of the National Ranking counting events.

Ashbourne, "the home of the biker" or at least that's how I like to think of it.

12Km run around the resevoir - If only it was flat. I lost count of the times I said to myself "this is the last climb". The HR alarm was sounding most of the way round. The strategy today? Run far too bloody hard and see what happens. Old school stylee. "Old school, better than no school."

38Km bike around the rolling hills of Derbyshire. Spot the flat bit? Ride hard, use every gear and don't get cramp. That's the plan, nothing you can do about cramp. The god of cramp wasn't smiling on me. The Watts were looking good and I knew taht this was an oportunity to steal some National Ranking points on the other guys.

4Km run along the damn. If you can get your run shoes on without your calves cramping, you'll be just fine. Relatively speaking.

The race went well. I had a bit of a ding-dong with a team mate. His diminutive size worked well for him when climbing up Middletop Top on his bike but he ain't the best at going downhill so I stole the lead again and held him off for the rest of the race. Neither of us at our best but I beleive we brought out the best in each other on the day.

On the start line someone proclaimed that "This is why we do it". On reflection he's right.

When you race you feel
When you feel you are alive
Maybe it's the burn or the pain you feel
but you feel all the same and you know you are alive

Ashbourne Results

Milton Keynes: National Champs or National Disaster?

I'd opt for the latter.

All the way to Milton Keynes with my Ma & Pa playing at gypsies for the weekend. The caravan was out in force but would I be?

After a very cold start to the morning things warmed up. Having tarmacced a few drives and sold some lucky heather, it was time to get down to business. I had now sorted the heart rate monitor alarm issue of Swindon and was running under the desired heart rate. Unfortunately it was so slow that I got stopped for curb crawling by the MK Feds.

The bike wasn't too bad but I was so far behind the superfast runners that I caught them so late in the race that they passed me on the final run. The bike wasn't all "honeymoon between my legs" as I once heard it described. The power readings were low the heart rate was high and the performance was average.

All in all, a long way to go (again) for a below par performance. Had I won some cash we could have bought a transit van had some chromium plating fitted to the caravan.

MK Results

Swindon: Du the Maths

Swindon is a long way away. In order to break up the Journey I stayed at my brother-in-laws in London. The 90 minute drive up the M4 in near Arctic conditions was not the ideal preparation for a race but then neither was the Chicken Balti and 2 pints of Cobra. Hey, I'd already qualified, yeah?

And there lays the problem. I was suffering from a post-qualification hangover. Nothing left to aim at, motivation had dried up and I'd picked up a ligament niggle in my ankle.

I arrived at the race, snow on the ground dressed to impress. Dressed to race in the cold anyway.

I was armed with a plan to run below a specific heart rate and had set alarms on my HRM top trigger if I ran too hard. The best laid plans ......... the visual alarm was on but the audible alarm was off.

The bike was the same old. Flying past many of the fast runners and then some lapped competitors. It was a 5 lap course ....... or was it 4? After coming out of T2 in first place I bid a quick retreat, put the bike shoes back on and headed out for the final lap. My complexion must have matched my race kit due to embarrassment rather than exertion.

The final run wasn't much fun as I couldn't raise my heart rate or my game. I had started to skip many of the run sessions in training to try and let my ankle recover.

Time to head home and rest the glass feet for next weeks National Championships at Milton Keynes.

Swindon Results

2008 Campaign begins: Clumber Re-visited

And so to Clumber Park. The site of last years debacle. Last year at Clumber I discovered that my aspirations to compete for GB were just that, aspirations. I was nowhere near making the grade. This year I was far more prepared. I knew who I had to beat and had been studying the form ........ with the aid of tri247.com and not The Racing Post.

I lined up on race day knowing that after 2 hours in the "hurt box" I would know if I was on track to qualify at Swindon in April. Clumber was intended to be part of my build up for qualification. Unaware of how my back would hold up after forcing me to rest all week prior to the event.

The opening run was a shocker, I monstered the bike and then managed to hold off all of the faster runners who had managed to stick their bikes to the tarmac whilst trying to push 53x12 into a headwind. After the initial "shall I vomit" debate after crossing the finish line. Mrs H did the maths and informed me that I might have done enough to qualify

Now it's confirmed, Rimini here I come.

Now what do I do until September?

Next stop Swindon

Clumber Results

New Year, New Duathlete?

With plans of world domination I have enlisted the help of a coach. I decided against enlisted the services of Wrays of Harrogate and opted for thetriathloncoach.com



This has resulted in the odd early morning to climb onto the turbo trainer and a far more structured approach to my training. I qualified for the European Championships by the skin of my teeth based on a training routine (not a plan) and then performed well at the championships on the back of my own training plan. This year I want to leave nothing to chance.

Despite all this serious training I bought a mountain bike. You've got to enjoy yourself sometimes.



So I'd better stop typing now as Coach Fi has plans for me.