Soggy Mash

Wet

A bit wet.  IE Soggy.

Yesterday was Australia Day – a special public holiday here in Oz, when we passionately celebrate our beautiful land and the wonderful Aussie lifestyle, whilst simultaneously feeling guilty and ashamed of celebrating and partying on the anniversary of the first landing (aka the first invasion)

We are a complicated nation.  And we’re not super good at picking dates for national parties.

Anyway, once again the gym was shut for most of the day, opening only between 9 and 12. Before commencing triathlon, this would have meant either working out in the heat of the day or swapping my workout entirely for a simple walk with the dog.

Now that I can run and cycle, I no longer need four walls and equipment to get hot and sweaty! And I had an excellent plan. Continue reading

Physio Session 2

Emergency!  Emergency!  Buy New Shoes!

Emergency! Emergency! Buy New Shoes!

Just over a week ago my new Physio, Jake, banned me from running but promised he’d have me ready to run at Bribie.

So when I turned up for my second physio session on Friday, I was fully prepared for more needles, more pressure points and more running ban.  We’ve still got 3 weeks until the mini Bribie Triathlon.

Indeed, an hour of the same physio talk and tests ensued – there was jumping, hopping and twisting of my legs.  Jake got his extra-thick needles out and did some more dry-needling – actually, a lot more.  And it was really painful.  I wished he would switch to acupuncture instead.  Dry-needling is more of an archaeological dig for injury fossils inside me than just a few strategic pin pricks like you get with acupuncture.  There is a lot of ‘rummaging’ with the needle tip once it’s inside and boy is it painful.  Especially when he hits a nerve (yes that happened)

But then, as a magical surprise just as I was about to leave and make my next appointment, Jake announced that he was happy for me to go for a run.  Well he called it a jog, but we all know that sounds much less serious than a run and what is the technical difference? I don’t know so I always claim a run, never a jog. Jogs are for wimps.

Anyway, I stared at him.  Really?  Yes, just take it easy, wait for at least 24 hours from now and don’t do more than 4km.  Stop if you get any pain, but if you just feel a bit tight then you can keep running, he said.

I took this to mean that I am the best physio patient he’s ever had and I have healed at a speed that even Superman would be proud of.  I patted myself on the back and hurried out of the office to plan my first Recovery Run. Continue reading

The (Mis)Adventures of Frogwoman

the Adventures of Frogwoman

The start (and probably the end) of my comic strip-writing career

The complete true story of the daring exploits of the one and only Frogwoman!

(Yes, I totally borrowed that from Superman issue 1)

Recap: A cretin on the East Coast of Australia, determined to push her mental boundaries and physical limits, Frogwoman had begun life as a normal human but morphed into a disgusting monster after torturing her ego to an extent from which it would never recover.  And after buying some hilarious-looking frog goggles.

Believing herself invincible, and fancying that she had become ‘the champion of the oppressed’ – the hero of sh*t athletes everywhere – she was unaware that her feeble attempts at (dun dun duuuun) TRIATHLON TRAINING had taken over her life, until one day she could no longer return to the simple, humble beginnings she had once known.  She would forever be… FROGWOMAN Continue reading

Gear Up!

frogwoman

It cost me real money to look like this.

Post-Christmas Poverty, screw you.  My employer has once again topped up my bank balance, and I have refunded the savings account from which I stole too many dollars, so I am in the heady nirvana moment in time where I don’t owe any money.  And before the next bill arrives tomorrow, I rushed out and spent every dollar I could on more triathlon crap.

But wait; before I update you on my new gear haul, let me tell you that this morning after my long bike ride, I decided to do the closest thing I can manage (while I am banned from running) to constitute a mash-up – I took the dog for a walk.

I was sweaty and yucky from cycling, but as I flew around the corner and entered my street for the bike leg ‘home stretch’ I knew I would just have time to fit in a walk before work if I was quick.  So my transition had to be super-fast, just like in a race.  And I was sweaty and tired, just like in a race.  Perfect, I thought. Continue reading

Oh. My. Triathlon God.

Grimsey's Adult Swimfit

A blessing from above

The Triathlon Gods have finally pulled through.  It is a miracle.  Perhaps they finally agreed that I have suffered enough.  Or maybe King Kirk had a word with them.  Or maybe they saw me riding the Unicorn that is Improvement at a galloping pace towards the finish line of Bribie and decided that I am finally worthy of their affection.

Whatever the reason, I am sure that only their divine intervention has brought me to Grimsey’s Adult Swimfit.

WTF?? I hear you cry.  That is exactly what I thought.  Do not be afraid. Continue reading

Running a Virtual Race

In my cossie

Ready to… Run? In my cossie

The only real rules around taking part in the fantastic virtual race that I signed up for (in aid of Project Semicolon) was that I had to run my chosen distance one day this weekend.

I struggled to lay down any actual plans around this because I had to wait and see what miracle cure the Physiotherapist would have up his sleeves to sort out my stupid hip pain.  But generally I was thinking that I’d run on Saturday.

Today being Saturday, and in light of the total ban on running that my Physio imposed yesterday, I had to quickly think outside the box.  It wasn’t that hard, because the answer to my dilemma occurred to me as I sat in the Physio’s office, when he told me that I should try jumping and hopping in the pool.  I decided to run in the pool. Continue reading

The Physio Appointment

Physio's Office

The Physio’s office

Since hurting my hip the week before Christmas, I’ve been running less and less.  And then even less again – in the past week and a half I have relegated myself entirely to ‘running’ on the elliptical trainer, which hopefully maintains my heart and lung’s ability to run when the time comes, but doesn’t really make up for the fact that my legs can’t run for sh*t.

Initially I was adamant that the new pain would go away of its own accord, because it clearly isn’t related to my (now perfect) running form.  Surely.  It can’t be, because my form is seriously so perfect.  I figured it was just a little ‘overuse injury’ that I had probably caught early enough to just rest and let get better.

I don’t know if I didn’t rest it enough, but it did not go away.  Each time that I attempted to run over Christmas, the pain came shooting back through my right hip and now I have it 24-7.  That’s all the time, for those of us that hate numbers.

One of the interesting affects of writing a blog about one topic (ie, triathlon) is that some people seem to think that is all I do: blog and train.  I guess it’s easy to forget I have to do actual paid work as well.  Oh, and wash myself and make food and walk the dog and do the laundry and whatnot.  So I’d just like to point out that if physio offices were open at 6am, I’d probably have been there on Monday morning.  But alas I had to wait until I knew I had more than a 20 minute lunch break to waste on a doctors appointment.

So don’t panic – I wasn’t trying to sabotage myself or give up running or find a way to give up triathlon entirely by not fixing my hip pain.  I think I just need to quit my job and divorce my family so that I’ve got a reasonable amount of time to dedicate to this crap.

Until I get around to that, bear with me.  I generally get there in the end. Continue reading

The Comeback Report

Christmas dinner at mum's

Ah, thanks for the memories, Christmas.

After two glorious weeks of mostly fun and relaxation interspersed by minimal amounts of triathlon training over Christmas, it was then gloriously fun although not at all relaxing to get back into my proper triathlon training this week.  I guess when you find training that you love, it’s easy to look forward to it and enjoy it, especially after a well-earned holiday.

January is a tough month for those of us with nothing but first-world problems to contend with.  Faced with 12 months to struggle through until we can have more pavlova and drink beer every lunch time again, it feels like we’ve got to run a work ultra-marathon 12 times over before we can even dream of having more fun.

The reality of over-spending has sunk in.  My two precious weeks of holiday that I didn’t even want to take (but was rudely forced to) have flown by.  And worst of all I have got to go to bed at a reasonable time and stop taking naps in the middle of the afternoon.  I miss my late-night ‘Scandal’ marathons (For goondess’ sake Olivia, FORGET FITZ!!) Continue reading

Night Swim

Tonight, we swim

The sun sets over my street. The pool was calling me.

I normally get my swimming, biking or running (which is currently elliptical training due to hip pain) done in the morning and then focus on strength training at night, but with only a month to go now until the baby Bribie Triathlon it is time to pull out all the stops.  I will still do strength training when I can, but running, cycling and swimming may now appear sporadically in the PM time-frame as well as the AM.

For instance, today felt like it would turn into the perfect night for a swim.  It nagged at me all of this morning.  I could hear the pool calling my name.

Get your butt down here, Loser!  It called.

This bothered me more than usual because I agreed that I really wanted and needed to do a swim tonight instead of strength training.  But I didn’t have a swimming costume.

Get your naked butt down here, Loser! The pool taunted.

I’d planned to buy a new costume a bit later this week, because I was at the point of feeling sick at how much I was eating into my savings over Christmas and my monthly pay is due in just a few days.  (Thank you esteemed employer, I do hate you know we have our ups and downs but pay day is definitely the only reason I keep putting up with your crap an up)

This morning, though, the idea of ‘later in the week’ seemed like such a long time away.  I couldn’t decide whether I would feel more sick about spending yet more of my savings, or about ignoring the pool’s call and missing an opportunity for a good swim.  I had to choose one. Continue reading

AWOL

It's not Christmas without pav

There is a pav under all that fruit and cream

I had two weeks off from my job over Christmas, a break enforced by my esteemed employer who staged a company shutdown, presumably to remind us all that our our work is worthless and entirely expendable.

In the first week, I enjoyed logging in to my computer to write my blog posts… But as the second week arrived and the dreaded return to the coal face loomed ever closer, I frankly couldn’t bear the sight of a keyboard and computer screen.  So I escaped to a small cabin in a campsite out past woop-woop with Shane (my partner) and tried to pretend that the only existing technology was beer factories, microwaves and Instagram.

So if you were wondering where I had gone, you can rest assured that I simply had my head buried in the sand – in complete denial that I have a job or need money to buy beer and expensive triathlon crap.

But I am back now and there is no escaping the fact that this week I am working.  And the blog is back on track. So how was Christmas training?

As expected and completely permissible during the most fantastic time of year that is Christmas, the gym was closed for a few days and open for only a couple of hours on certain other days, and I had friends or family commitments and hangovers to deal with on the days in-between.  So the consistency of my training was nowhere near as high as I usually commit to.  Twice a day 5 days a week and once a day for the other two days a week is a high standard to maintain, so I wasn’t concerned that I didn’t maintain it during my holidays.  In fact, I effing loved it. Continue reading