A Post About So Many Things, but also nothing

Kyle Chalmers gets gold

Watching the Olympics any chance I get – including at the Brisbane domestic airport. And yes I cried when Kyle Chalmers put this medal on.

One of the strongest memories of my childhood is standing in the kitchen having an after-school snack of apple and cheese with my mum and sister, singing-yelling the anthem of the Barcelona Olympics (surely one of the best Olympic anthems ever?) and watching Sally Gunnell in the hurdles. The northern hemisphere summer was in full swing – I remember hazy golden rays beaming through the window behind us and birds tweeting in the trees outside.  Although in saying that, all of my memories of English summer weather feature hazy golden rays of sunshine… And that obviously can’t be true because English weather is shit, so maybe I added the rays of warmth and light to the memory, for effect. Continue reading

The Stupid Swimming Race

smiling

At the pool, smiling peacefully as I begin the final training session before my race

Of all the things I have signed up for, and of all the things I am planning to sign up for – oh my goodness you guys are going to think I have gone absolutely batpoop insane when I blog about some of the things I am planning for the future – the stupid swimming race has got to be the absolute stupidest.

By a long, long way.

One kilometre more stupid, in fact.

I don’t know what I was thinking.  Well, actually I do – I was devastatingly unaware of the existence of the miraculous Grimsey’s Adult Swimfit when I signed up for the Mooloolaba 1km Ocean Swim.  I thought that entering a swimming race would be the only way for me to practice swimming in groups around buoys in the ocean.  Google had really let me down on that front.

Always blame Google.

I sat at my computer, a few hours after my first Open Water Swim session with soon-to-be-ex-Coach Kirstie.  It seems so long ago now.  It dawned on me that swimming in the ocean is my own personal equivalent of wrestling with bears – there is a high likelihood of death, nobody enjoys watching it much less doing it, the cruelty factor is high, it’s entirely pointless, and let’s not forget there is a high likelihood of death.

Yep, I know I mentioned it twice.

So what to do, when you have already signed up for a triathlon that involves a 1.5km swim in October but your new coach is moving to Tully and Google tells you that you have no other way to practice ocean water swimming?  Of course, you sign yourself up to do two thirds of the required triathlon swim distance 7 months beforehand.  Yes that’s right, sign yourself up to swim one whole kilometre, seven whole months before you actually need to do it.

Of course that’s the answer – if you have no actual brain cells left from your bear fight. Continue reading

A Broken Finger

broken finger

I am temporarily unable to give anyone the finger

I don’t usually swim on a Monday but this morning I was sore from running yesterday (the subject of which should have been today’s post but I’ll do it tomorrow instead) so running was kind of out of the question.

And my bike is out of action until I fix my flat tyre.

Unfortunately the last swimming session I’d completed was a resounding success. Which sounds like a good thing but either it is karma or the Triathlon Gods (or I raise my expectations too high and set myself up for a fall) and I can never achieve two good sessions back-to-back. So this morning I was doomed. Continue reading

My First Mash-Up

Mash

Mmm, sweet potato mash

I will admit to watching at least two episodes of the TV show Glee in my lifetime (but no more than that) and I was quite taken by their ‘mash-up’ songs.  Probably because a mash-up sounds so fun and well, gleeful.  Plus it makes me think of mashed potato which is the sixth main food-group in my own personal non-Government-endorsed eating pyramid (which looks more like a cylinder and also consists of vegetables, Chobani yoghurt, protein, porridge and sugar.  Maybe I will draw it and blog it one day)

And so it is with some excitement that today I bring you my first triathlon mash-up; that is, the first combination of two of the three sports I am attempting, mashed together into one glorious mess.  Continue reading

Time to Run Part 2, or The Meltdown

My Visit to Crazy Land

My brief visit to Crazy Land

I’ve clearly seen too many adverts extolling the virtues of Scholl’s gel inserts and the like, because in spite of the podiatrist’s advice that orthotics might not help my knee pain as much as I was expecting, I only took about two metephorical eggs out of that basket.  I still believed that everything would get better with insoles. Continue reading