Warning - Angsty Training Report

What a weird week it's been. Nic and Leonie left on Tuesday, then Deborah arrived on Thursday and Mum and Dad arrived on Saturday. Five people in the house! Work was flat out, and the pressure went on. My training, which has always been constant and structured, suffered and became a bit random. My stress levels sky rocketed and some of my old Angsty Pip tendencies started to resurface, which of course only made me more uptight.

I didn't run with the Squad on Monday, choosing instead to spend the evening with our departing guests. I had a session with Duck in the morning, and we worked my upper body again. This week we are getting back into circuit training, which I'm looking forward to.

At lunch time I ducked out and ran for 45 minutes along the Bays. From my desk the outdoors looked grey and uninviting, but outside it was mild and still. The harbour was perfectly calm and I had another of those days where I was able to escape from my mind and enjoy being outdoors. The run wasn't that bad either! I ran the first 20 minutes at a fast pace, and the last 25 at a medium pace.

On Tuesday I was too busy to go to Balance, and rushed home after work to drop Nic and Leonie at the airport, so Tuesday ended up being a reluctant rest day. On Wednesday I made it out of bed to do a lower body weights workout, and that night I ran with the squad. We ran North along the waterfront and down Thorndon Quay. The idea was to run for 20 minutes at a fast pace, then if we felt ok we were to continue for another 10 minutes before turning around.

I kept up with the speedies, but got unaccountably nervous about my ability to keep up at 22 minutes, and turned around. I made it back to the gym in 29 minutes and, feeling ok, decided to run around the block, getting back to the gym right on 40 minutes. It seems that I'm out of practice when it comes to running with a group. I've been running on my own so often lately.

With Deborah arriving on Thursday, I ended up having another rest day. Hamish and I had been toying with the idea of going to a dance party at Sandwiches on Thursday night, so I had cancelled my RPM booking on Friday morning, which I later regretted. Instead I ran for 50 minutes at lunch time. As it turned out a run was by far the better option. Finally, a Wellington-on-a-good-day run! To celebrate the sun, calm air and mild temperatures I challenged myself to a repeat of Sarah's challenge of a couple of months back.

From the Terrace gym I ran up Bowen Street, then turned up Tinakori and ran up past the Botanical Gardens. From there it was a right turn up the dreaded Garden Rd. Knowing the extent of the challenge ahead of me was in this case a good thing, and I ran slowly but doggedly and steadily up the hill. I made it to the top in one piece! From there I ran easily back down The Rigi, back onto Glenmore and into the Botanical Gardens. I ran over to the Rose Gardens, then up the Serpentine Walk, back up into the Herb Gardens, and from the Rose Gardens down through the cemetary, up and down the Terrace a couple of times, and back to the gym for a total of 50 minutes. I felt strong and confident, and my knee caused me no problems whatsoever. I did have a few issues with downhill stitch. That still puzzles me. I figure I must tense everything up on the uphill then loosen it all up on the downhill, thus leading to the stitch. I can get rid of it by breathing out hard and digging my finger into my side, so it's not too much of a problem.

I did a Balance class on Saturday, and everything felt stiff and awkward. I could tell I haven't been doing enough yoga of late! My right glute was still causing me problems, but has eased off a bit over the last couple of weeks. Clare corrected one of my warrior poses from the front of the class, reminding me to breathe and telling me to extend my arm out a little further over my head. To my surprise I tried stretching my arm and it moved quite significantly further than I thought it would!

So that was my week of training - random, abbreviated, and punctuated by way too much time running around, and not enough time running. Almost time for stillness or calm, no time to myself. Not a good way to lead up to the duathlon today. I should have known better! Life kinda got away on me ...

Deborah and I went to the Hurricanes game at the Stadium last night. It was my first time at Westpac and I was rather excited, but in the end it reminded me of how much I dislike large crowds, and confirmed for me that I'm a league girl rather than a Union fan. The game seemed broken and ungraceful, and frankly a little boring. The Hurricanes lost badly and the crowd lost interest rather early on. The obnoxious women behind us bellowed obscenities in our ears and one of them spilt beer down my back ten minutes into the first half. The highlight was a car giveaway that went wrong. Five people were given a key to a new Ford, one of which was supposed to open the car. Unfortunately none of the keys did... Hilarious!

I got home, jumped in the shower to wash the brewery smell off myself, managed to drop my glasses on the floor and break them, groped around getting my bag packed for this morning, and spent the night running to the bathroom with a worsening UTI. Hamish got home around 1.30a.m, unloaded his car (it was the last night of Bright Room and he'd packed out all of his AV gear), then left to go to the crew afterparty. He finally got home at around 1oam this morning, and spent all day in bed sleeping.

After my broken sleep I finally woke at around 5.20 and lay there until 6a.m, when I got up and went through my standard pre-race routine, right down to putting on the standard number of layers and eating my usual Special K with tinned fruit. I took a few sips of a Horleys sports drink, and then the family convoyed in two cars down to Waitangi Park.

The signs were not terribly auspicious. Apart from the UTI and general tiredness the weather was rather nasty, with a stiff Northerly and threatening rain. Poor Jane, the series organiser must wonder what to do about Wellington. Last year the weather the day before was perfect, and this year the perfect day was two days' prior!

I must say I was very proud about how Mum conducted herself throughout the whole thing. She never showed any real signs of nervousness and took everything in her stride. She's looking fantastic, and has clearly developed some real muscle in the last few months. Dad says she spends around two hours every day exercising - walking, cycling and doing weights or classes at the gym. My mother is an inspiration.

Sarah found us and I spotted a couple of other jog squad and women's multis girls before the event started. We all lined up in Wave 12, and before too long we were off. I got separated from Sarah early on by a group of slow women, but she stayed around 20 metres or so ahead of me most of the way, and I could always see her head scarf bobbing away in front of me.

I wish I could say the 3.5km went well, but the run felt dreadful! I was regretting wearing my polyprop under my race shirt, and I was rather hot by the time I made it to the turn around. All the same, I steadily overtook a stream of women, and hardly anyone overtook me. Unfortunately I forgot to press my stop watch at the start of the event, so had no idea what my splits were like, but I think they would have been somewhere between 5 and 5 and a half minutes.

Before long it was on the bike. I think I could have pushed the cycle harder, but it was by far the best part of the race. The road was closed this year (a necessity after last year saw a woman getting knocked off her bike), and I spent most of the time sitting on the centre line flying past slower riders. A group of road bikers ended up pacing off each other for most of the distance. One woman was faster than me in the wind, but every time we hit shelter I would fly past her again. I obviously need to work on my wind cycling. A few super-fit looking girls on very fancy road bikes overtook me, but generally I held my own.

Back to transition, and I ran as quickly as I could in my cycle shoes back to rack Lola. I was regretting not having put my elastic laces on my running shoes, and I think I probably lost a good 3 minutes in transition that Sarah gained on me. Having said that, Sarah did have a problem with someone having racked their bike so one of their pedals went through her spokes, and she told me that lost her a couple of minutes.

I still had no idea how I was doing time-wise. I had forgotten to spin my legs out and I had serious off-the-bike issues. Never has 1.5km felt so long! So much for sprinting. It was a hard job just to keep moving. Soon after the turn around I had a real problem with needing to vomit, to the extent that I actually had to stop for 30 seconds or so to stoop over and spit out a heap of bile. A very concerned woman stopped to ask how I was, and I replied that it was just a bit of nausea, stood up, wiped my mouth and started running again. How hard am I!!

So I made it over the finish line five or so minutes behind Sarah, but with no real idea of how I'd gone. In the final analysis I came in at 57 minutes, so only 2 minutes faster than last year, or around 5 minutes if I allow time for shoe changing. Not good! I was really bitterly disappointed, but then I started doing a little analysis.

Last year I came in at around 360, this year at around 120. Sarah came in at around 45, which is where Bronwyn placed last year in under 50 minutes. It seems that everyone did a slower time this year, with the wind the most likely culprit. I managed to finish significantly further forward in the field, and that's probably the best indication of my improvement. I guess I would feel better if I didn't know I was capable of going faster, but for the stupid leg and nausea issues. On a good day I would have kept pace with Sarah. She didn't blitz me as much on the initial run as I'd expected, and I should have been able to blitz her on the bike.

So what's the next step? I need to perservere. It would be easy to start thinking that this eventing stuff is all too much of a hassle. But that would be giving up. Onwards and upwards.

Besides, the proof of what is possible was shown to me today in the form of Mum, who came home in 1 hour 20, looking like she'd just gone out for nothing more than a gentle stroll, and with a huge grin on her face. I'm so incredibly proud!

The plan for this week is to reintroduce the consistency and focus on my training. I'm going to do an upper body workout in the morning and run with the squad tomorrow night. After that it will be a week of homework runs, another Jog Squad run, a Duck session, a lower body session, an RPM class and as many Body Balance classes as I can squeeze in. I'm looking forward to it. It's time to get serious again!

Onwards and Upwards

I'm guessing that my continual posts about how well my training is going might be getting a bit boring for some readers. Certainly I don't think that my training posts have the audience that my poetry posts do, but I'm going to continue nonetheless. It's important for me to have a record of my progress, even if noone else is really interested in reading about it.

This week, which in all other aspects has been wonderul, has been tinged with a very real sadness. One of the gym staff, a lovely man who smiled with his whole face, a man with a kind word for everyone, a young family and another child on the way, was knocked off his bike while riding to work early on Saturday morning. The driver of the truck and trailer that hit him stopped but did not get out to check on him. Thankfully someone else was passing by and managed to get him breathing again. He was in an induced coma for several days. Apparently he is now out of the coma and is showing signs of responding to his family. However it will obviously be a long, slow route to recovery, and I'm guessing there's no guarantee of that recovery being anything like complete.

It's not like I know this person at all well. We exchange greetings as I'm coming and going from the gym. However the idea that this might happen to someone so full of life has been extremely difficult to accept. I've found myself genuinely upset, and the whole incident has been preying on my mind all week. It's not often that I feel compelled to offer someone my prayers, but I've come as close to praying as I ever do for this man.

The Women's Multis group spent a time discussing the accident on Tuesday before our training session. It was perhaps not the smartest time for Ingrid to decide to make us bike through town. Some of us are distinctly nervous about riding in heavy traffic, and I'm still not comfortable with the regular clipping and unclipping involved in cycling through the city.

However my days of wimping out seem to be over, and I simply set my jaw and rode off. Catherine and I took the lead, and we were lucky enough to hit nearly every green light going along the waterfront. We turned left at the Shell station and cycled up Bowen, past Parliament and the Terrace. Passing the Terrace meant riding in the right-hand lane, and thankfully we didn't have to stop at the intersection, as I'm still not sure I would have been able to clip in on a hill.

I was conscious of the need to regulate my cadence on the hill, but Bowen seemed much smaller than I remembered. I overtook Catherine early on, flew up the hill with barely a rise in my heartrate, and moved out into the centre lane again to turn right onto Tinakori. We did have to stop at that intersection, but I was able to push off with enough momentum to avoid falling off. From there Catherine overtook me on the downhill each time I cruised up to a red light at a slow pace, in the hope of avoiding unclipping. She also had a clear right turn onto Thorndon Quay, whereas I had to stop for a passing car. After that it was green nearly all the way back to Freyberg. I passed Catherine again shortly after turning onto the waterfront, and was first back, in just over 18 minutes. My city-riding demons seemed conquered.

A quick change of shoes and I was off again, running around Oriental Bay, up Carlton Gore to Maida Vale, down to Balaena and back to Freyberg. There was no off-the-bike weakness in my legs, and this was familiar territory. I overtook a guy on a mountain bike, stopped to let him pass to I could cross the road, overtook him again, stopped again, chatted with him as he passed, and finally left him to turn down Maida Vale. I stormed down Maida Vale then upped the pace as I rounded Pt Jerningham and Freyberg came back within view. I can't remember how quickly Ingrid said I made it back to the pool, but I know it was significantly faster than I'd managed the same route at the start of the squad.

From there it was a luxuriously slow ride back to the gym in the dark, thankful for my new bike light, where Lola was quickly thrown into the back of my car for the ride home. Brooklyn Hill is in my future, but not on the back of a hard Multis session.

I had gotten up early on Tuesday to get my lower body workout out of the way for the week, despite questioning my sanity on the back of the large session with Duck and run the day before. However it meant I was able to sleep in on Wednesday, and that I was fresh for Wednesday night's Jog Squad session. A small but keen group of runners headed up Taranaki Street to the Basin Reserve, where we ran intervals around the perimeter, practiced sprints up the grass bank, ran around the crest of the bank, then finished up with a relay that my team won. Faster, stronger? Yes! In the mood for an intense workout? Yes!

On the run back to the gym I broke out on my own, keen for a little more speed. Karen joined me soon after I turned onto Courtney. As is my custom I opened up a little and increased my pace. Karen increased and pulled slightly ahead of me. I increased my pace to match hers. She increased, I increased, she increased, I increased. By the time we reached Penny Farthings, 20 metres or so from the gym, we were both sprinting. Now, Karen is tall, with legs that go forever, so here was little Pip going flat out trying to keep up. I did it, and I was highly pleased with myself.

Thursday morning saw me rising early again for an upper body workout. I made it nearly to the end, but one set of star gazes saw me deciding enough was enough. Unusually for me I quit before finishing the entire session.

I made it through the rest of a busy day at work, then headed down to Freyberg for the last Multis session for the year. It was a warm, still night, and it was already starting to get dark. Predictably, Duck elected to have us swim and run.

Into my wetsuit, and out into Oriental Bay for what is likely to be one of my last sea swims for the season. It was a perfect night for swimming. The sea was calm and I was able to swim further than I've ever swum before. I decided not to try for the pontoon, content to leave that for next summer, and quite happily swum lengths of the beach, making it further each time. I reached that place of zen where my diaphram relaxed and my breathing clicked into place. In retrospect, had Duck been in her swimming gear, I might have been willing to try for the pontoon, things went that well.

We alternated swimming and running along the beach a few times, adding in a few pushups in the water, and practicing running in and out of the sea. Fially it was well and truly dark, and I reluctantly ceased floating around and headed for the showers. Multis was over for the summer.

Most of the girls from Multis are keen to join the next Jog Squad. From here on in the running gets serious. Duck's talking about lots more interval training, and five to six runs per week. I know I'm ready for it, but I feel a deep need to continue the cycling and swimming. Dee's been hinting I should do a Gear Shifters, so that may be a consideration once the half marathon is out of the way. Monday and Wednesday will be Jog Squad runs, as will Saturdays. I figure I should try to get in the pool on Tuesdays, do a homework run on a Thursday, and perhaps a light RPM on a Friday morning. Add in Body Balance on either Tuesday or Friday, and on Saturday morning, plus a Duck session and a couple of weights sessions, and that's me sorted for the rest of the year.

A few hours' sleep and it was Friday morning, and I was getting up to do RPM again. Unlike the first 'hard week' of training, where RPM seemed needless, stupid and unpleasant, I still felt stupidly fresh. Al got to have 'Push Push' for track 3, and I got Nirvana for track 7. Rog was absent again but the rest of us were feeling suitably vocal, and I went hard without fear of killing my legs.

In fact I felt so good that I even took time out from writing a paper for the Minister to do Body Balance at 1.00. Claire, the Body Balance instructor, was complaining that her legs were still sore from Jog Squad. She knew that I'd followed that up with Multis and RPM, and she knew that my quads were a little sore. So she really didn't need to look at me when she told the class that some of us could get lower in the Warrior poses, and she really didn't need to laugh at the expression of pain on my face during all the standing lunges.

Two glasses of wine after work on Friday night and I was toasted. It was early to bed and I don't even remember Hamish eventually joining me. My alarm went off at 7.45am, and it was up and back to the gym for a 40 minute hill run with Sarah. The gorgeous weather from the day before was replaced by a muggy grey morning and a stiff breeze. Luckily (and yet not) Sarah had an inland run planned, sheltered from the wind. For the first time this week I was not in the mood. My legs felt every one of the kilometres I'd run this week, and all I wanted was a little light cardio on a bike and a Body Balance.

However there was no rest for Pip. Sarah had absorbed my week's worth of enthusiasm, and it was straight up to the Botanical gardens via the cemetary. I knew immediately I was in trouble. The tank was empty. I'd pushed myself too hard over the last few days, and my body was unwilling to go any further.

So it was a quick slog up Glenmore Street, then we turned right and onto an almost vertical path up the side of Garden Rd. I walked the steep bit, then rallied with a slow jog up the long, winding slope towards Kelburn. I made it at least halfway before I suddenly found myself walking. From there it was a run-jog all the way to the top of the hill.

Sarah met me near the top, having jogged back down to try to find me. We crossed the viaduct then loped gently back down the hill, into the Botanical Gardens, and onto a gravel trail back down to the rose gardens. From there it was a quick hop back down through the cemetary and along a path beside the motorway, back onto Aurora Terrace and down to the gym, right on 40 minutes.

Claire was there to teach the 10am Body Balance, saw we had been running, and chose release 34, a class notable for its intense standing lunge poses. It's so good to have a merciful Balance teacher! Despite my tiredness my poses felt strong, my body felt in control. My hips were tight and my hamstrings felt short, but other than that everything else flowed, especially the tai chi.

So that was it, another hard week of training out of the way. This was the second week of hard training in a row, and the third in a month. The different between this week and the first were glaringly obvious. I had energy to burn each night from Monday through to Thursday, and was then still able to get up on Friday morning and work hard in RPM. It was only on Saturday that I started to feel like I'd worked hard enough. It's obvious to me that my body has been able to respond to being worked hard, and the payoff has been an increase in both speed and endurance.

So I'm torn now as to what to do this week. It's two weeks until the 10km. I don't want to back off for two weeks, but I don't want to burn out by trying to do yet another hard week either. On the other hand, now that Multis is over I have a little more play in my schedule. Tuesday and Thursday nights are now free. Duck starts teaching RPM at Xtreme this week on Tuesdays, so I'm planning on going along to her class. I can do one homework run on Thursday, and one on Saturday. That will leave a session with Duck on Monday morning, an upper body and a lower body weights session to fit in during the week when I'm feeling fresh, Body Balance on Saturday and on Tuesday or Friday as I can fit the classes in, and possibly a swim on a Sunday. That doesn't leave any time for any cycling, so Lola might have to wait a little while longer. I would also like to continue with my Friday morning RPMs, but I don't know how realistic that is in the long term, particularly once the long Jog Squad Saturday runs start kicking in.

There was a brief moment this week when I wondered about my sanity. Several people have asked me what I'm training for, and although obviously I'm training for the half marathon, I'm training way harder than I actually need to. I guess at the moment I'm pushing myself this hard because I can, because I'm getting results, and because I'm curious to see how far I can take things. There may come a time where I really do want to back off, but I doubt it will happen before June. I'm still playing things by ear, and that seems like a good way to continue. I'll keep this up as long as it still seems fun.

More than Surviving!

So it's Saturday afternoon, and I'm officially at the end of my permitted 'hard week' of training. In the final analysis my left glute is notably achy, my left knee is a little sore (nothing major), my abs are sore, and the upper part of my quads are sore, but other than, and all things considered, I'm feeling remarkably good. I'm sure that in an hour and a half I'm going to find myself crashed out on the bed having a nana nap, but I'm ok with my nana-ness.

Starting where we left off, on Tuesday I was too busy working to make the 11.15 Balance class, but was more than ready for Multis that night. We cycled around to Hataitai Beach, ran for a distance (20 minutes from memory), swam a short distance, then jumped on our bikes and headed back to Freyberg.

The cycle out was fun, and the run also good, if a little slow. The swim, however, was heavenly. Hataitai Beach was perfectly flat, the temperature mild, and the sun was just beginning to set. I could have stayed in the water forever. My swimming skills started to come back to me, and I was a lot more satisfied with my effort.

The return cycle was much harder, against a very strong headwind. I overtook Rose and Fran, and was then in turn overtaken. It seems that I find it hard to cycle into the wind. I'm not sure why, and I wonder whether it has something to do with my lighter weight. However Rose did say that she felt like a 'blat', and my legs were feeling it a little from the run and weights the day before.

As the wind increased the world reduced down to the road a metre of so in front of me. It was difficult to hear anything other than the breeze in my ears, difficult to concentrate on anything other than staying upright. As we rounded the point it was all I could do just to keep inching forwards. To add to that it was starting to get dark, and those of us who didn't have lights on our bikes were feeling very conscious of the time.

So that was Multis. I got up on Wednesday morning and did an intense upper body session, again upping some of the repetitions. I was still feeling quite good by Wednesday night, when the Jog Squad met again. However I wasn't sure I'd be able to repeat Monday's speedy performance. I didn't need to worry.

Our task on Wednesday night was to run towards Newtown for 25 minutes, then back again. Our target was the roundabout at the end. We ran straight up Taranaki Street, then up the rolling hills of Wallace. I started out with Sarah and the speedy Karens, seriously doubting my ability to keep up the pace. However, although at times they pulled ahead slightly, I was always able to catch up.

We got to the main intersection at the start of Newtown and, faced with a long wait at the lights, Duck sent us up Adelaide Rd. So it was an uncalled for hill climb for us poor unfortunate front-of-the-packers. The short steep downhill back to the main street was a relief, and we made it to the roundabout with 7 minutes to spare. From there it was another uphill climb (after some debate), and we made it past the entrance to the sports park, turning around just after 23 minutes.

The return trip was wonderful. We bypassed Wallace in favour of the long slow downhill of the Basin and Cambridge Terrace. With home almost in sight I continued to keep up the pace, and it was only as we ran the last 100 metres on Courtney that I slowed and let the speedies get ahead. The run that was supposed to last 50 minutes was closer to 45, but it felt excellent.

I got to sleep in on Thursday morning, as Duck had moved our session to 11am. The extra hour in bed was extremely beneficial, and I didn't experience the same wave of tiredness I usually get on a Thursday afternoon. Duck ran me through some more Look Better Naked stuff, alternating pushups and hovers, cable work, more arm stuff and some excellent stretching at the end.

Given that my legs were quite fatigued, I wasn't quite sure how Thursday night would go, but again it turned out to be any better than it had any right to. Duck stayed at Freyberg while we raced eachother around to the Zephrometer. I kept a low profile on my bike, concentrated on keeping a fast but steady cadence, and sprinted. Dionne still bet me on her new road bike, but Dionne is a machine and I fully expected her to.

Spinning my legs out as I returned to Freyberg I felt perfectly satisfied with my performance on the bike. Duck sent me off on a run out to Pt Jerningham, which I suspected would be slow and painful. Painful it certainly was, but it wasn't as slow as it could have been. Unfortunately I misinterpreted her instructions and turned around at Carlton Gore, but I knew the distance was only around 2km, so I pushed myself hard and sprinted the return leg. I was helped by the sight of Rose and Anna in front of me, and so was able to push myself past them both.

Realising I'd short-changed myself, I even elected to run out to Fisherman's Table and back, again pushing the return leg. By the time I returned everyone was preparing to climb the rope climbing frame on Oriental Bay. I made it half-way up, but my inactive childhood and resultant lack of agility caught up with me!

I think we all expected to be able to call it quits at that point, but Duck had us lying on our stomachs in the sand, and on command jumping up and sprinting down the beach. We did this several times over and each time I found myself in the front few women. I found that if I could dig my toes in and push up through my arms I could rise to standing more quickly than I would ever have thought possible.

Friday morning and I had a date with Nic and Leonie for RPM. My tired body was protesting ever so slightly, and I did wonder whether there was true wisdom in continuing to push myself hard, and whether a little gentle cardio later in the day would have been better for me. However it was too late to back out. Dee had been replaced by Emma for the day, but Rog was back, and it was soon all on. After the first few tracks the adrenalin started to kick in sufficiently to get my mind around the pain.

By the time Emma put Children on for track 6 I was ready to go hard. Then Emma followed that up with track 7 from the latest release - a stonking Nirvana release. My eyes met Rog's, and the challenge was on. I do not remember killing myself as much in a track in a long time, and I would have loved to have been wearing a heart rate monitor. Any thoughts of spinning my legs out in preparation for today's run went out the window... I had speed and I had dial, and I was not afraid to use them. I did not back down.

At least I had enough sense to realise that Body Balance would have been a little excessive, and besides, the lack of any fresh gym gear and the thought of putting on a wet, sweaty sports bra did not appeal. So RPM was it as far as exercise on the last working day of the week.

Which left this morning. Sarah and I had organised to meet at 8.45 at the Terrace to run for an hour and be back in time for 10am Balance. Duck had suggested I try Ngaio Gorge, and Sarah was planning a flat run. It was such a beautiful morning though that in the end we both agreed it would be criminal not to run out around the Bays.

The upper part of my quads were aching in a way that reminded me of exactly how hard I'd run the shuttle runs on Thursday night. Either that, or I was in pain from track 7 on Friday morning. In any case, and with my knee already slightly creaky, I wasn't quite sure how well I was going to hold up. In the end I stuck it out with Sarah for 20 minutes before a slight stitch kicked in and I dropped back a bit.

I'd had four glasses of wine on Friday night, and eaten a fair bit of pizza and other junk food over the period of the day, so I thought the stitch may have in part been due to dehydration. I stopped at Balaena Bay for a quick drink, after which the stitch disappeared and did not return. I was able to pick the pace up again a little bit, although Sarah was now well ahead of me.

After 35 minutes I started to feel ok again. That's not to say that I was feeling good, just that I was able to sustain a reasonable pace, and to envisage maintaining that pace for the full hour. Apart from that, my calf muscles felt very tight, my archilles niggled a little, my knee threatened to complain, my glutes throbbed, and my quads - well my quads had given up on me and were seeking a divorce. This is the thing I've learned about what happens when your fitness levels increase. It's not that things hurt less, just that your ability to keep going anyway increases. It's the endurance that goes up.

Sarah caught up with me around the Chaffers Park mark, and we ran back more-or-less together, walking up Woodward Street and back to the gym just in time for Balance. I'm very glad I chose to follow the run with some yoga, otherwise I think I would have difficulty getting up off the sofa I'm currently sitting on.

We did my favourite release, and it was nice to be familiar with the moves and to not have to think too hard. Everything flowed reasonably well - no major breakthroughs, no backwards steps. I was extremely grateful for the last couple of tracks and for the relaxation at the end. I had finished my week of training, and I had survived.

The difference between this hard week and the last one a few weeks ago is palpable. I did not get anywhere near as tired this week, and although my body felt it, I was able push through the pain. I am fitter now than I was before the aborted half marathon last year. I am stronger and my cardio fitness is far superior. As far as the sports psychology side of things go, I'm also way ahead of anywhere I've every been before. This is who I am now, not who I am trying to be.

Last year I got to this peak point in my training and followed that up with a crash. It was a predictable trend across each Squad. So my challenge now is to recognise that and to pull back if I start feeling my body cave in. I've got the rest of today and tomorrow to rest before I meet Duck for a session early on Monday morning. I can drop out the extra weights sessions again next week if I need to, and rest if necessary. I've learned the difference between thrashing my body for the sake of it, and working my body hard to make progress. I definitely prefer the later approach!

Blessings from the Training Fairies

Obviously I'm doing something right, because the good training sessions have kept on going.

After Monday's excellent run I managed to deny myself the opportunity to get back in the water on Tuesday by forgetting my togs and my running tights. I figured I could work around the lack of togs. I could simply wear my sports bra under my wetsuit then put a t-shirt on afterwards. However there was no way to get around the lack of running tights! I really need to get myself a tri suit.

In any case a Southerly was blowing and I had to run through the freezing cold rain to get from the bus stop to our house, so being snuggled up under a blanket in a pair of track pants rather than out there running and swimming didn't seem like such a tragedy. However Duck later confirmed that the water had been lovely and calm (Oriental Bay is sheltered from the Southerlies).

On Wednesday we ran the 2.4km police entry test. When I first ran the distance in July 2006 it took me 12.26 minutes. In October it took me 11.38. I was still buzzing from my burst of speed on Monday night, so I was confident I could beat that time. I started out at a fast speed, and was unsure how long I could maintain it. However I stayed focused, and knowing that I only had to hold that pace for a short period of time helped. My breath was coming in short gasps, and pedestrians were turning to see what small stream train was running up behind them. It was all a little embarrassing. As I crossed the bridge for the last time and reached the other end of Frank Kitts Park a quick look at my stop watch told me I wasn't going to make it in under 11 minutes, but if I didn't slow down I wouldn't be that far off. In the end I crossed the finishline in 11.05 - another 30 seconds wiped off my total. I get to run it again in three weeks, and I'm totalling aiming to wipe off that last five!

I got up the next morning and ran 2km on the treadmill in just under 10 minutes, and then Duck put me through a circuit/powerbag training session in the Studio. Lots of push-ups and leg work! By the time we met up again on Thursday night the wind was strengthening. We rode around the Bays for 20 minutes to the Naval Base, ran 10 minutes, then cycled back again. The wind was, at times, scary. The crosswinds on Cobham Drive threatened to shuttle me sideways at any moment. Coming back around the last point all I could hear was wind, and it was all I could do to grind my way slowly forwards, trying not to think about getting blown off. By that point even Rose had overtaken me on her shiny new road bike. I had to eat humble pie and not worry too much about my ego!

Friday morning, and another RPM class. Al and I got to choose the tracks, and it helped to distract me from the pain in my legs. I miss having fresh legs for RPM, but I'm just going to have to deal with it until after the half marathon in June now! At least the fans are back again, after several weeks of them all being broken.

I skipped Body Balance in favour of reading a good book, and was feeling remarkably rested this morning for my trail run with Sarah. We ran up Hawker, and as Sarah has described in her own post, we managed not to get too lost, although the steepness of parts of the trail had to be seen to be believed! We managed to find our way back down to Pirie Street and had enough time to sprint back down Courtney Place and Lambton Quay to Body Balance at the Terrace at 10am.

Today was my first attempt at release 36, and I love it! The new Tai Chi moves flow really well. The strength poses don't feel rushed (although all the standing lunges played havoc with my tired quads). It seemed all the hip openers and stretches worked on the exact parts of my body that need a bit of focus. I felt strong when I needed to feel strong, flexible when I needed to extend, and even reasonably balanced (although my right side still sucks). The back-strengthing and lengthening poses seemed to go especially well today, and I have more movement through my lower spine than I can remember having had in the past. However the best bit was the bird pose. I can't believe I have the balance and forearm strength to accomplish that particular move!

The rest of the morning passed in a flurry of exercise geek activity. I bought a fab new pair of running shoes at Shoe Clinic. Sarah bought Gloria, the perfect Giant hybrid bike. It was even in her price range! She will totally kick all of our butts in the SPARC duathlon... By the time I'd dropped Sarah and Gloria off home and done the grocery shopping I was more than ready for a nana nap. As I type this I'm stuck on the sofa under a blanket and two cats. The weather is terrible outside, and I can hear the sound of the Summerset concert in the Basin Reserve. I'm so glad Hamish and I didn't pay $65 each to sit in the wind and rain!

The prison is yellow

About a year ago I was training with the Special K duathlon training squad. The event itself was very much targeted at beginner women athletes - a 3.5km run, 10km cycle and 1.5km run - all flat. However even just signing up for that training squad was hugely scarey for me.

One day Duck told us to cycle up Maupuia Rd to the prison. We were supposed to tell her what colour it was. I got to the Miramar cutting quite a distance behind everyone else, got confused about where I was supposed to be going, and simply waited at the bottom for the others to return. I was very disappointed that I hadn't been able to complete the task.

The week before the event Duck set us a trial duathlon - a 4km run, 12km cycle and 2km run. The cycle route included a climb part of the way up to the prison. This time I knew where I was going.

Anyone familiar with Maupuia will know that the first 500m or so is reasonably steep, after which the road levels off. I made it most of the way up the steep slope before I found myself out of breath and had to walk my bike until it levelled off again.

All year I've been very conscious I never made it to the prison, and I've always wanted to be able to tell Duck what colour the prison was. I kept waiting for her to set the Maupuia climb as part of the Multis training, but each week something else would end up on the agenda.

Not that Duck's getting predictable or anything, but on Thursday night I knew that the list of options was narrowing. Standing there it was clear that the sea was too choppy for any serious swimming. However the Northerly wasn't terribly strong, and the conditions were good for a ride. I was gripped by something that could have almost been called a premonition, had it not been so obvious. Sure enough, on Thursday night I finally had the opportunity to name that colour.

Heading around the Bays again I was glad I'd rested my legs on Tuesday night. I realised I was feeling good, and my legs seemed strong. I cruised along a short distance behind Jo, determined to pace myself against her on the hill climb.

I have to apologise to the guy on his road bike waiting to turn right out of Maupuia Rd who yelled at me to indicate when I swung left instead of continuing on past him. I was too busy focusing on Jo and the slope in front of me to even think about him. I had a mantra circling through my brain along the lines of "slow down, pace yourself, slow down, pace yourself".

I stuck behind Jo, I slowed myself, and before long the steep part of the slope was behind me. I was amazed by how gentle the incline was after that point. Where once I would have tried to pick up the pace I made the most of the opportunity to recover, stayed behind Jo, and focused on being steady.

The short downhill halfway up came as a nice surprise. Near the top I had to wonder who would want to live on a street called Prison Street. Not a great way to market a neighbourhood. I looked up briefly and saw the prison looming ahead of us - large and very definitely yellow. It still seemed very high up compared to where we were, and we'd already cycled a long way.

The last part of the hill climb leaves suburbia behind and ascends through grass and scrub. It also corkscrews around the rise on which the prison is located and gets steep again, although not as steep as the initial climb. It was impossible to see too far ahead, to know whether the incline levelled off or increased, or to know how much further there was to climb. There was nowhere obvious to stop and rest, so I simply kept climbing. Jo was still ahead of me, and was regularly standing on her pedals. I remained in my seat and kept up the grind. Dionne was ahead of us again - a demon on her mountain bike. If she ever gets a road bike she will leave us all for dead.

Finally the three of us turned a corner and there was the carpark. The gate to the driveway leading up to the prison itself was locked, so we circled around and flew straight back down again. Down was fun - very few cars, none parked on the side of the road, gentle corners with good cambers. Before too long we were at the bottom and cycling back around the Bays.

The Northerly had picked up again, despite all forecasts to the contrary. I stayed behind Jo and we kept up a gentle pace until Balaena Bay, at which point we sprinted to the finish. Before I knew it we were back at Freyberg. I felt fantastic, and at last I could see some progress in my cycling. The muscle mass I've gained in the last couple of weeks in my legs appears to have been for more than show after all. I am notably stronger than I was at the start of the year.

We waited around for the rest of the girls. I did my little victory dance and hugged Duck, just for the sake of tradition. We cycled back to Taranaki Street, Rose gave me and Lola a lift home, and I drank a cider then proceeded to eat a whole Curry Club Dal Makhani, not even feeling full at the end of it. That REALLY must have been a good workout.

I'm still basking in the rosy glow of another goal achieved, another target crossed off the list. The fact that it wasn't as hard as I'd expected made it even more sweet. The prison is yellow, Lola is red, and I'm a VERY happy Pip...

Long Time Gone

It's remarkably hard to start posting again after an absence, particularly when the absence has been caused by a simple lack of the ability to find time to connect with my iBook. As I commented to a friend at one point, it wasn't so much that I was burning the candle at both ends. Rather, I'd somehow managed to discover a third wick in the middle of the candle.

The longer I sayed away, the harder it became to start again. So much has happened. Where to begin? I got so busy that I even lost all impetus to write. I haven't posted to Sunday Scribblings or Poetry Thursday for weeks, and I haven't felt any inspiration. When I did try to write I was so fed up with what I felt was a lapsing into a 'style' which to me has become tired.

So no poetry just yet. I need to ease my way back into the blogging, so I thought it would be best to start with a simple rundown of my current training.

I'm pleased to report that I ran the Round the Bays successfully, and there are even a couple of photos available of me that I like. Photos of me running that don't make me cringe! I have ordered a couple of electronic photos from the official website, and will post them here once they arrive.

Sarah and I met up beforehand, but she somehow found the turbo button and took off right at the start. I made no attempt to keep up, and concentrated more on setting myself a steady pace. As I turned onto Oriental Parade Harriet flew past. Knowing that she normally runs more slowly than me I called out to her. It turned out she was running to some fast music on her iPOD, and hadn't realised how fast she was going.

A little further on and I passed Leonie, who I hadn't even known was running. It was a lovely surprise, and we kept pace for a little while before I sped up again. By now the early morning cloud had disappeared, and for once there was no hint of a breeze. As I rounded Pt Jerningham the temperature rose rather than fell, and I realised this was not going to be easy.

From that point on I ran through every hose I could find, even with my cellphone in my hand. It didn't feel like a pretty run. I was hot, I felt slow, and I fought an unaccountable stitch the whole way. However it felt good to be running in a large crowd, and the emphasis definitely was on 'fun'.

About half a kilometre before the finish I felt the first inklings of nausea, but ran through it. The run into Kilbirnie Park and down the finish shute was no sprint of glory, but I don't look as grim in the finish-line photo as I had imagined. All up it was good to get the run over with! I have no idea why it felt so hard, particularly given that I knew how far I had to run, and I knew that it wasn't that far.

On reflection I'd had a hard week of training in the lead-up. Duck had worked me hard on the Thursday, and then I'd wrecked my quads sprinting away from chasing Multis girls during a training session that night. They were still a little sore on Sunday. I had also gone hard in RPM on the Friday morning. In my memory I'm sure I'm also overexaggerating how hard it was. It wasn't a bad run. It just didn't feel as good as I'd expected.

Since then Jog Squad has started again, and the first session for the year truly felt like getting the band back together. I can't describe adequately how good it felt to have the Karen/Karyns speeding away at the front, Caroline, Tanya and some of the others behind. Our first night was a simple half-hour, which again felt harder than it should have done, but the joy at being back into the old routine over-rode the feeling of exertion.

Multis has continued to be a challenge. At one point I nearly decided not to sign up again for the last round, but I knew I'd feel disappointed with myself, and I knew Duck would kick my butt. Part of my problem has been with the stress of having to lug so much gear around, part not knowing what I'm going to be confronted with each night. Swiming and cycling continue to be psychological challenges, and the bitsy effect of training multiple disciplines each night means I have felt like I haven't got a proper handle on either.

I even skipped a session one Thursday, mostly because I felt extremely tired, but partly because Duck had said she wanted me to swim out to the pontoon that night. In the end it was too choppy and I wouldn't have been able to go out anyway, but I realise I still have unfinished business and that putting it off only makes it harder.

My mission for this week was to get enough sleep and to make it through without crashing. Everything started on Saturday, with two RPM classes with Nic and Leonie. A heap of fun, and an intense workout.

We were going to do the 32km Bike the Bays route on Sunday, but Sangria the night before and the need to tidy up for an open home (Nic and Leonie's, not ours) put paid to that. So I was relatively well rested by Monday. That sensation wasn't to last long.

On Monday morning I rose early and headed off to do Duck's new lower body routine for me. Leg presses, squats, frog jumps, walking lunges, hamstring curls, jack knifes, odd things on swiss balls. Enough to wipe me out for the rest of the day. Of course the problem with getting wiped out by 8.30 in the morning is twofold. First I have to get through work, then I have to get through Jog Squad.

Monday night's task was a flat 40 minutes out along the waterfront, onto Thorndon Quay and back. I made it as far as the Lighting Plus store, and met with Sarah walking back towards us looking pained. From there it was a steady run back along Lambton Quay and up Willis, a route that by now feels comfortable in its familiarity. It wasn't as fast as it could have been, but it was faster than the last couple of outings.

I wasn't in the mood for Body Balance on Tuesday, and my quads were really sore. I couldn't understand why a flat forty minute run had killed my quads, and it wasn't until halfway through the day that I remembered the morning's weights. As a result Multis that night was unmitigated torture. I had managed to forget my togs (on a night that was flat, and on a low tide that would have made it easy to reach the pontoon), so the run was the only item on my agenda.

We ran with our backpacks around to Balaena Bay, and every stride was agony. When we got to Maidevale Rd I wanted with every ounce of my being to run back along the flat with UK Sarah, who is suffering Archilles problems. However I steeled myself for the steady climb up the side of the mountain. In the end it wasn't as bad as it could have been, and it wasn't long before we were running back down Carlton Gore and around to Freyberg.

I decided to bike back to The Terrace through town rather than along the waterfront, but with a fair amount of traffic on the road and lights at every step of the way I soon wimped out of clipping in and out of my pedals and hoofed it for the last part of the route.

I rose early again on Wednesday morning and set off to do an upper body weights routine. Chest press, chin ups, hovers, lots of cable work, and an instrument of torture commonly known as the star gaze. Shattered? Yes! Yet I somehow made it through to Jog Squad that night, where the Austin Rd route of doom was revived and made worse by tacking the sprint up Hawker Street to the monastery at the end.

I ran with Allie and thanks to an urgent need on her part we kept up a good pace. Halfway up Hawker we passed Sarah coming down the other end. Sarah admitted she'd walked near the top (you know you were going too hard), and that was it for me. I was grimly determined not to walk, even though I was gasping for dear life at the top.

We met up with Duck for the return down Courtney Place. I had one of those wonderful surges of energy that I sometimes find at the end of hill runs, and was able to sprint from Tory Street, feeling fantastic.

The run of energy died on Thursday. More intense upper body weights with Duck, and then a 15 minute sample of Look Better Naked. Shuttle runs up and down the aerobics studio, interspersed with pressups, situps, lunges, squats, frog jumps, crunches, etc. I flashed her a dirty look every time I ran past, but for something that hurt so bad it sure was fun.

I knew I would have to swim that night if it was calm, and as the day went on the doom grew. Not because I didn't think I could do it, but because when I'm physically tired the mental strength is the first thing to go. A simple swim turns into an Everest. However as we waited for Duck to arrive the wind and the chop led us to one conclusion. We were going to cycle Mt Victoria. And so it was...

Which is how, halfway up, I ended up giving a firm but calm speech about setting myself realistic challenges, turning around, and cycling back to Freyberg. My legs just wouldn't work any longer. However Duck did make the observation that I'm starting out too hard when I hill climb. She used the analogy of starting out at sprint pace for a hill run. Once she said that it all made sense. I'm not pacing myself. Somehow I got it into my head that I need to attack the hill at full speed on my bike, even though I'd never dream of doing that on foot.

Knowing that made not climbing the hill a lot easier to deal with, and I also knew I'd worked extremely hard over the last few days. It has made a huge difference, and there are muscles popping out all over my legs. They've jumped in strength just in the last couple of weeks. I'm in a completely different place to that where I was this time last year. I couldn't run a year ago. Now I'm on my way to actually officially completing a half marathon. The Shoe Clinic event - my nemesis - will be mine.

Despite the exhaustion I still got out of bed this morning and did RPM, though it was a case of turning up for the sake of it. I couldn't use much dial, I wasn't in the mood to socialise. I stuck my head down, set a grim face and got on with it. I cleared the room as soon as I could.

Unfortunately I didn't learn from that experience, and was foolish enough to think I might get some benefit from stretching out in Body Balance. Even though I took the easy options, as I told Sarah this afternoon, it wasn't so much a case of getting stuck in poses as not being able to get into them at all. My warrior poses have never been so out of alignment. I was prepared to forgive myself this little lapse into limbs of stone however. As I'd reminded myself last night - I've done rather a lot this week.

Not that it's over. I'm taking the Jog Squad girls out for a flat 40 minute run around the Bays tomorrow morning. I'd like to get a swim in afterwards. However Hamish is at home this weekend, and we really need to spend some time together before he forgets I exist. And Sunday? If I get out of bed at all it will be a miracle.

So on the one hand the running is brilliant. I was having problems with my left knee at first, but the more I run the better things get. As long as I keep my heels down the pain stays away. I can't believe how far I've come in the last year.

On the other hand I'm feeling a frustration in relation to my multis training that come directly from my own failed attempts to avoid excising the demons. I'm so close I can almost touch success. By the end of this month I WILL have swum to the pontoon, and I WILL have gotten over being terrified of my bike. Otherwise it's going to be a long, slow winter of anticipation...

Summer Running

Poor Lola. My beautiful red road bike has suffered the indignity of being left in the car, then being carted back down the steps to our house, twice this week. She's in danger of becoming a Cinderella.

It's not that I didn't intend to leave One Love to cycle around the Bays to the Women's Multis session on Tuesday, but I was having a fabulous time in the scorching sun dancing to some good New Zealand roots music. After a couple of ciders and a Margharita slushy (thanks to the lovely people sitting next to us), and permission from Duck to skip training, I realised that my cycle helmet was, in any case, in our other car at home.

I made up for things somewhat on Wednesday, when Allie and I got changed at her flat in Hawker Street and went for a run to Greta Point and back. It was a close thing, and we nearly ended up drinking wine in the sun instead. Wellington had put on another perfect summer scorcher of a day, and we had to walk past a number of people drinking outside waterfront bars in the sun. By the time we got to Hawker Street we were already hot and sweaty.

The idea of a swim after the run got us out of the house, although not before I had run up and down her hallway in my togs and running tights a couple of times to ensure that I wasn't going to make too much of a spectacle of myself. In the end there was a Splash and Dash event on, and therefore I wasn't the only woman running in my swimming gear. The only time I felt a little self-conscious was when running past a group of slightly leery fishermen.

It was a rather hot evening for a run, and we stopped at Balaena Bay for water, and walked a short section. However once around Pt Jerningham we were in the shade, and what breeze there was trended Southerly. We made it to Greta Point before running out into the sun again, at which point I turned tail and headed straight back the way we'd come.

Allie insisted I go on ahead and, feeling better than I had any right to, I pushed on towards Oriental Bay on my own. I found a good steady pace, and occupied my head with thoughts of how beautiful the evening was so that I was less inclined to stop. All the same, it was a relief to make it back to Oriental Bay. By the time Allie rounded the corner I was already floating in the sea.

I can honestly say that the swim that night will go down as one of the most enjoyable in history. Allie was eventually convinced to join me, and we hung out in the surprisingly warm water for quite a while. Little Oriental Bay resembled the Riviera, there were so many people out and about. On a night like that being a runner, a Wellingtonian, and a swimmer, equated to being the luckiest person on the planet.

On Thursday Duck ran through my new programme with me. From now on I will have one core and upper body session and one leg session a week, on top of our personal training session. Both workouts were extremely challenging, and by the end of it all I was a sweaty, slightly queasy heap. After a few sets of burpees I was seriously questioning how fit I really was.

That, and five hours sleep the night before (I woke at 4am and couldn't get back to sleep again), meant that I was really flagging by the evening and was questioning whether I really wanted to do a Women's Multis session. When I got to Freyberg there were more people out and about than ever, as the fine weather continued. I was really hoping for a nice flat ride around the Bays, a quick run and a swim. However I should know by now that with Women's Multis it's never as simple as getting what I want, even if I usually get what I need.

Poor Lola got put back in the Mazda, and Duck sent us off around the Bays on exactly the same run Allie and I had completed the night before. We were split into small groups according to how fast she thought we could run, and she made me run with the fastest girls. That included a girl from the last Jog Squad who blitzes me at the best of times. My legs were suffering, and I knew I wouldn't be able to keep up. Sure enough, as Duck's cycle computer read 12kmph, I kept up for around 10 minutes before having to drop back and plod my way around to Hataitai Beach.

Once at Hataitai Beach we jumped in the water. Duck made me swim out over my head, which I accomplished without too much difficulty. Being in the water was, as it had been the night before, like swimming through silk while on really good drugs. In other words, it was pretty wonderful. The only bad part about it was having to get out and run back to Freyberg again. But I managed that ok, and even managed to get home again without falling asleep at the wheel.

I'm not quite sure how I got through RPM on Friday morning, but I think it involved not using a lot of dial and a fair bit of grim determination. Leonie turning up to meet Nic and I for breakfast was a lovely surprise, and we all sat outside at Rise drinking yet more Kawakawa tea.

At lunchtime I escaped for another Body Balance class, this time enjoying the strength through my arms as I dropped down from the plank into a hover, then an upward dog. My hamstrings were really aching by this point, as were my quads. In contrast I could tell that I have really improved significantly in the balance poses. The moves on my left leg are almost easy now, and even on my weaker right side I was able to hold the tree and dancer poses without too much difficulty. Actually having some glute activation works wonders!

Leonie and I are planning on doing a mini-triathlon tomorrow morning, as the $40 entry fee for the Scorching duathlon and triathlon was a bit too steep for my liking. So I've taken today off, and it has been sorely needed. I clocked up nearly 30km this week, from almost nothing, and my legs are a little annoyed with me. Surprisingly though my right knee has fared rather well. In fact it has been my left knee that has ached a bit, and I suspect I'm now overcompensating. I want to start working on my speed again, but not until I'm satisfied my technique has improved enough that I don't shatter my IT band and knees the second I crank things up.

Jog Squad starts again on the 19th, and we're training for a 10km trail run. I'm already running 10km with no problems, so working on speed doesn't seem out of the question. It would be silly to think I could work up to a half marathon in such a short timeframe (only 7 weeks), so I'm going to have to be sensible and restrict myself for the time being. My focus HAS to be on not overtraining.

Seriously?

Time to weigh in again on the training I guess. It's been nearly a week.

Looking back, last Tuesday I commented that I expected a big hill ride on Thursday night. I believe I commented that I thought we'd be going up to the prison. Oh, if it were that easy...

Following Tuesday's effort my knee was starting to grumble, and I had enough sense to take advantage of the lovely evening and go home for a rest day. I promised myself I would spent both Saturday and Sunday at the pool to make up for being lazy.

On Thursday morning Duck continued to work my upper body and core, and reassured me that we were not riding up Maupuia Road that night. Silly me, I trusted her and accepted the denial at face value. I spent the day floating on a little cloud of relief, convinced the evening would bring nothing more taxing than a brief run and a leisurely flat cycle around the Bays. And that was a good thing as far as I was concerned, as my legs were still shot from the previous week's madness.

Which is why I had to fight the urge to slap the Duck at 6.00 at Freyberg, when she blithely informed us we were cycling up to the summit of Mt Victoria. And not from the comparatively gentle Newtown side. We were starting at Carlton Gore Rd, ground zero, and we were going the whole way. To the top. And then we were going to go for a run. And then presumably we were going to roll back down the hill again, tumble into the sea, and hang there limply resembling the jellyfish we would by then have become.

Now, two things: I am not confident riding hills, and I am not confident using my SPDs. In particular, I have a morbid fear of riding up hills and not being able to unclip and falling over in front of a car and dying. And, partly because of this fear, I suck at riding hills, because I give in too easily. In short, I wanted to cry. I wanted to throw my toys and go home. But once was enough, and I didn't fancy getting bailed up in the women's toilets at Hope Bros again for a heart-to-heart. So there was only one thing to do, and that was get on my bike and get moving.

By the time we got to the point where we had turned and headed back down hill the week before I knew I was in trouble. Somehow top gear seemed to sneak up that much sooner. And then Duck made the tactical error of yelling out from behind me that it was about to get steep, and I did what I expected of myself, rode a little further, turned a corner, saw that the steepness kept on going, spotted a flat driveway in which to turn into, pulled in and unclipped.

Still, I made it around two thirds of the way up, and I didn't ass off my bike and kill myself. So I should be happy with myself, because just the fact I even tried was HUGE. And, as Sarah's been pointing out all week, the hill is even bigger than my angsty-Pipness. Hamish is in awe that I even made it a small way up. And when I got to the top (riding the last couple of hundred metres) I got off my bike and ran around the summit road at a pretty good clip, without jelly legs. And then I got back on my bike and rode back down again.

Going down was ok, despite going the wrong way and having to get off at the Monastry and walk down the pedestrian access to Oriental Bay. Driving home was a bit scarey though. I was mentally and physically shattered, and I'm sure I was a danger on the road. Hamish was good enough not to let me loose in the kitchen, and we both thoroughly enjoyed our Hell pizza when it eventually turned up.

I'm feeling a lot more confident with the clipping and unclipping now. I just have to remember that my pedal often turns upside down when I push off, and that I need to flip it to clip in. Once I got that sorted I was clipping in and out much more quickly.

It sounds mad to say that I got up the next morning and did an RPM class, but I did. I missed having fresh legs, but I dutifully turned up the dial and went hard. I even followed that up with a Body Balance. My big Body Balance revelation for the day was my shoulders suddenly opening up and getting into some kind of parallel alignment in the warrior poses. Finally - some progress in that area!

I'm ashamed to admit that fine weather, bacon for breakfast and a trip to Petone to buy a barbeque put paid to any exercise on Saturday. An achy IT band didn't help either. And then Sunday was spent in the Sanctuary chasing my birds. The breeding season is coming to an end, and I had a strange sense of this being the last time I would visit a number of the nestbox sites. As a result I made a conscious effort to take note of everything I loved about each location, and to commit it firmly to memory. I was in the bush from 9am till 4pm, and I enjoyed every second.

A gorgeous evening and lamb chops on the barbeque put paid to a Sunday evening swim, and somehow I managed to avoid the gym and the pool for the whole weekend. I was still a little worried about my knee, which was still achy, so taking a break probably wasn't a bad thing, but I was wishing I hadn't eaten so much by the end of it all.

Today the knee seemed to be on the mend. The weather has continued its late spring run, and for the last three nights we've slept with the windows and blinds wide open. We're lucky enough that our house is private enough for that little luxury. It's rare that the wind dies off enough to stop our wobbly old sash windows rattling when they are open, but there's nothing like the scent of the trees lining the ridge below us wafting up on the night air, and the soft thud as cat after cat enters and exits via the window sill.

I woke at 6am to a welcome sunrise, and pushed myself a little harder with the weights, mixing it up a bit and focusing on technique. Dale and I ran around checking out Brian Tamaki, who was seriously weirding out the other gym punters, as was another guy with an 'absolute absintence' t-shirt on. There must be a religious gathering in town.

The gorgeous Wellington day continued, and work was interupted by a welcome fire alarm right on morning tea time. Forty minutes spent sitting in the sun outside Rise drinking Kawakawa tea. Nice! Nobody doing any work because we were all seriously regretting not taking the day off ahead of the Waitangi Day holiday tomorrow... even better!

Sarah and I met up after 5 and walked to Xtreme to get changed, then set out around the Bays for the Newtown 10.6km route. Let's be kind and blame the heat, and let's just say it wasn't one of the quickest runs we've ever done. I for one was quite happy for the leisurely pace and regular breaks. It was a joy to be out there with a running buddy, enjoying Wellington on a good day. Although the prevailing Southerly was a cruel joke. Where was the tail wind when we needed it?!

One Love tomorrow, Women's Multis tomorrow night. I still want to do a short hill run on Wedneday, and then it's Duck and Women's Multis again Thursday, RPM Friday, and a Scorching Duathlon on Sunday. Which means Saturday will have to be active recovery - a swim day in other words.

Aahhh, training.... Joy!

Moving on

No, I didn't do the triathlon on Saturday, and I'm not upset by that at all. One of the other beginner swimmers in our squad did do the event, and really had a bad experience in the water. I would have completely lost the plot and panicked with so many other women around me, and I'm quite happy to wait until I'm ready.

Besides that, my legs were too fried from the hill cycle on Thursday night and a particularly hard RPM class on Friday morning. I have a new scale on which to judge my RPM intensity now. The whole way through the class I kept asking myself whether it felt as hard as Thursay night. If the answer was no then the dial went up.

RPM was followed by a good Body Balance at lunch time. The latest release has a lot of tai chi, which I really enjoy. I should try to do a tai chi course some time this year, because I really do get a lot out of the mind/breath/motion combination.

Mentally I wasn't anywhere near psyched up to do a triathlon on the Saturday, even if my legs hadn't been so blasted. Both Leonie and I felt too lazy to head to Levin for the annual organic festival, so I spent most of the day lounging around the house. In the afternoon I headed to Freyberg where I contented myself with a couple of lengths of kick, followed by some half-lengths of freestyle. I did quite well, although when I roll to breathe the extended arm does still tend to drop too quickly, leading me to windmill a touch. I worked on that today in the sea with Women's Multis, and I think I will be able to correct myself with a little more practice. However I do find I can't practice in the pool for too long before it all starts to do my head in.

On Sunday I enjoyed a few easy hours in the Sanctuary with my Hihi before heading back to the gym for an afternoon RPM class. I caught up with one of my former training buddies, gossiped with the instructor, and in between set the dial to grind while the sweat flowed. By the time Hamish and I met Nic and Leonie to head to the Botanical Gardens for the Little Bushmen concert at the soundshell I was seriously crashing, but perching on a steep bank kept me awake through to the encore, then the downpour that followed straight afterwards did the rest. I got to bed around midnight, accutely aware that I was supposed to be getting up again in a few hours for a weights session.

Surprisingly I did manage to get up when the alarm went off at 6am, and I even managed to do the usual routine once I got to the gym. However I've been doing the same upper body routine for too long now, pushed the kilos as much as they're really going to go, and I need to change. Thankfully Duck and I met today to revise my programme, and Monday's going to become cables and core day, with an evening run.

Speaking of evening runs, my aim was to run 40 minutes on Monday night. I felt in the mood for a Bays run, as it's been a long time since I ran that way. I didn't let the Northerlies convince me otherwise, and set out at a good steady pace. As I reached Balaena Bay it became patently obvious that the Northerlies were in fact a force to be reckoned with. I toyed with the appealing idea of running through to Evans Bay and over the hill to Newtown, but 10km was further than I'd planned, and the tail-wind wasn't worth that much to me.

So it was back into the wind as I headed for home. Things weren't too bad and I was starting to get lulled into a false sense of security when the long exposed straight to Pt Jerningham did its worst. I, and all the other random runners around me, felt myself being buffeted sideways a few times, righted myself again, braced myself, then was stopped in my tracks by the sheer force of nature. We must have looked a sight - four or so runners reduced to walking, leaning at a 45 degree angle with our arms splayed out behind us like inverted umbrellas.

It only took a few minutes to walk around the point, then the going was sheltered enough to pick up the pace a bit and make it back to the gym in slightly over 45 minutes. I felt well pleased with my effort and level of comfort, and was reassured that I would have easily run the 10km had I been so inclined.

Up early again this morning to see my physio and obtain her all clear. Not enough sleep, yet again. Luckily work's really rewarding at the moment, as well as busy, so that and emails to Sarah about her job interview today kept me awake until 5pm, when it was time to head to Freyberg again.

My lesson for the day though was that I can't expect to do so many days in a row without feeling some pain, or at least a drastic reduction in speed! So I plodded up Mt Victoria as far as Maidevale Rd, then down to Balaena Bay and round the bays to Freyberg again. The girls I would normally run with left me in their wake, but I didn't take it to heart. Instead I somehow managed to put a leg through one of the arms of my wetsuit, jamming it there so tightly that I had to get Ingrid to pull it off. If I didn't value warmth so much I wouldn't bother...

Into the sea, and a few short lengths of freestyle through the relatively calm water. I got some comments on how good I'm looking, but I was hampered by the fact I'd lot a contact lens, and was having to swim blind.

I know Duck has a big cycle planned for Thursday, and I have a funny suspicion it's going to involve the climb up Maupuia to the prison. With that in mind, and given I ran a hill tonight, I'm considering flagging a run tomorrow and simply swimming. Not exactly a hardship! I'll even take my wetsuit into work, and if it's a calm evening I'll choose Oriental Bay over the pool.

So I'm feeling really good about my training at the moment, and I think I'm also taking a much more balanced approach to it all. This week has been good for my confidence, and has woken my cardiovascular system back up again. The little bit of weight I put on after we got back to Wellington (only a kilo) has pretty much come off again, and I'm ready for Jog Squad.

It's been a year since I first started training in the Special K squad. I can't remember ever NOT being into multisports or running. What a pity I didn't discover all of this much sooner...

Perserverance, or knowing when not to quit

Training-wise this could have been a bit of a cruddy week. I intended to run 10km on Monday, but got caught up in enjoying the public holiday. I should have run in the morning, but spent it shopping in the sales. In the afternoon I was put off by the wind and the heat and lay around in the garden instead. By evening I was just being lazy.

On Tuesday I did at least manage a swim and a run with Women's Multis. Us learner-types splashed around in Oriental Bay, which rewarded us by being wonderfully flat and clear. When it came time for the run I didn't want to get out, but managed 20 minutes at a good pace, with no stitch. I discovered a potential new running buddy in the form of Julia, who seems to be a strong runner, slightly faster than me.

On Wednesday I had what will be my last lesson with Lesleigh for a while. Swimming without flippers continued to be a cardiovascular challenge, although I managed six lengths with a floaty without stopping or drowning. I would have run in the evening, but Duck and Ingrid had organised a cycle-maintenance workshop at Cyco that didn't finish until nearly 8.30. By the time I got home I was tired, hungry and grumpy. My lovely husband solved that problem quickly enough by placing a chilli-tequila cocktail under my nose while I cooked up some pasta.

So by the end of Wednesday night? Well, I can change a tyre, but swim 300m in a pool without flippers or a floaty? I didn't like my chances, and I wasn't about to ask the magic 8 ball for its opinion (we actually have a magic 8 ball, waiting for Fi to reclaim it on her return). Who did I think I was anyway, thinking I could complete the swim component of a triathlon?

Today, however, has been a training uber-highlight. Today was one of those days that reminds me of why I'm doing this and restores my faith in my ability to actually do this stuff. Tonight felt like the sessions with the Special K squad when my body suddenly developed some fitness, or one of those golden Jog Squad runs.

First, an early-morning session with Duck. Hard, as usual. Good, as usual. Pain? Yes, of course. Was I complaining? Nope.

A busy day at work came to a shuddering halt earlier than it should have done due to a deep fatigue brought about by stress, a lack of sleep and a good hard weights session. However I still met the Women's Multis squad at 6 as planned. I knew I was tired, but it was also important to me not to melt down again. I knew I had to suck it in and just do what I was told. So hey, I did!

The sea was fantastically flat again and I swam. I mean, I ACTUALLY swam. No freestyle correction, no rock-and-roll. I went out there, breathed to each side, didn't sink, didn't drown and I swam. I even ended up in water over my head at one point, and just calmly paddled my way back to the beach.

Then it was the cycle. Of course I knew what Duck was going to say before the words even came out of her mouth. Up Carlton Gore Rd and the side of Mt Vic to the turnoff to the lookout, then back down via Hataitai. So guess what Sarah? I didn't throw my toys. I got on my bike and I rode that hill. I even overtook most of the other squad, including a girl on a road bike, and caught up with the road bikes at the front of the pack.

The worst bit wasn't the legs, which felt relatively fine. It was listening to the rasping of my breathing, so different from hard-running breathing. But I got there. I even survived being overtaken by a bus on a hairpin bend, and narrowly missing slamming into a braking car on the downwards phase of the journey. Then there were the two pedestrians blinding ambling into my lane round the bays, forcing me to ride out into the middle of the road. I obviously have a label saying 'inexperienced rider - get in her way' taped to my forehead.

Maryanne and her friend worked hard on convincing me to do the triathlon on Saturday. I'm still reserving judgement. I'm going to try another swim at Thorndon tomorrow and see how I feel. No pressure - there's plenty of other beginner tri's coming up, most of which are in the sea. Why is it that I find breathing easier in the sea?

Anyway, for tonight at least, I totally rock!

What's It All About?

This has been an interesting week, with distinctly tidal moods. I've been back at work of course, which, after a long break, is always a shock to the system. I've had times where I've felt a definite tension in my chest - the ghost of anxiety long-past returned to force me to take another look at things. I know, for example, that I can't keep going at the pace I was trying to maintain before Christmas. I won't just crash and burn - I'll spontaneously combust.

There have also been waves of feeling that I'm in the middle of nowhere - that my running fitness is out the window, that I'm hopeless on a cycle and a less-than-novice swimmer, and what the heck do I think I'm doing anyway?

On the other hand, there have been significant achievements and moments of sublime happiness. Contributing to Poetry Thursday this week has been amazing for my sense of myself as a writer. I typically regard myself as middle-of-the-road at best - a writing hobbiest and nothing more. So it's extremely flattering to receive feedback on my poetry from complete strangers, who claim to admire and be inspired by my work. It's been fantastic for my motivation.

Back into the training, and various bits of me hurt today. I know a lot of the tension I've felt this week has simply come from the recommencement of Women's Multis and being pushed out of my comfort zone. Plus there's the aforementioned logistical challenges of multisport.

Following Monday's weights session, run and swim the momentum continued. On Tuesday I enjoyed an excellent but hard Bodybalance class. The holiday has allowed some of the tension in my right glute to subside, and that helped immensely in the balance poses. I pushed all of the extensions, and revelled in those areas that have improved over the last few months.

On Tuesday night we had the first Women's Multis session for the year. I ran around on Monday night frantically trying to pack everything I needed for cycling, running and swimming. There was no way everything was going to fit into one bag, so Hamish had to drop Lola and I off in town. As we unloaded her I realised I'd left my cycle shoes at home. Hamish offered to return home during the day and pick them up, but thankfully Duck confirmed that the fine weather meant we'd be swimming and running and not cycling.

Nevertheless, I was distinctly frazzled, and, having narrowly been outbid on a Trademe wetsuit auction, I was concerned I was going to freeze. As I was desperately trying to convince myself I could tough it out Duck called to let me know that the Swim Shop hired out wetsuits. Saved! However that just left more space to worry about swimming out to the Pontoon without drowning. I felt more nervous about a training session than I could remember feeling since forever.

Thankfully we had a beautiful evening for our first session, and I walked down and met the other girls at Freyberg at 6pm. We started out by running 15 minutes along the waterfront. I went out waayyyy too fast, and on the return got a revolting stitch. By the end of the run I was feeling overheated and queasy and disgusted with myself.

At least I could follow that up with the swim, so that afterwards I didn't feel too discouraged. Ingrid took us beginners for a swim across the beach, rather than the swim out to the pontoon that had been haunting me all day. I was feeling so uncertain that I chose to use my floaty, and concentrated on swimming on my side, with a little freestyle correction. I fell in love with my wetsuit, which kept me toasty warm. I could have stayed in the water forever, but felt extremely daunted about ever being able to finish a sea swim. I could very easily have started to doubt the sanity of my triathlon goals.

I had enough sense to know that I needed to take things a little easier on Wednesday, so limited my exercise for the day to a lesson with Lesleigh. All of my practice over the last few weeks has been driven by a fear of displaying a lack of progress, but thankfully all the hard work paid off. Under Lesleigh's watchful eye I swam lengths on my side, I swam lengths of freestyle correction, and I swam a couple of lengths of kick without flippers. My kick was improved, my breathing was improved. Lesleigh was happy, and I was ecstatic. My new goal - to ditch the flippers.

Wednesday night saw me again trying to pack for a swim, run and cycle. Lola was still in town following the Tuesday session, but it took a couple of bags to fit everything else in. This time I managed to remember the bike shoes.

On Thursday morning I had my first session for the year with Duck, and it was back into the nasty weights. Pain - such a good pain! I spent Thursday lunchtime crashed out on the lawn in Parliament grounds with Sarah under the scorching sun. Then it was 5.00 and time to head to Freyberg again.

I gave up the idea of cycling straight to the pool from the Terrace, and lugged three bags and Lola all the way to Xtreme, where I was able to ditch all but the bare essentials. Everything JUST managed to fit into one backpack, but, relying on Duck's comment that we wouldn't be running, the trainers were left behind. Worst-case scenario they would have been carried over my handlebars, as there was sand-only space in the bag.

Wellington put on another beautiful evening, but there was slightly more chop in the Bay. I ditched the floaty and practiced a little freestyle correction up and down the beach for a while. It was a challenge to accept that I was going to continue being slapped around by the swell, and that swallowing a certain amount of sea water was inevitable. Oh, and then there was the moment that I put my hand through a jelly fish, and felt VERY grateful for the wetsuit...

Without Ingrid shouting instructions it was more of a mess-around opportunity than a genuine training session. By the end I felt much more comfortable in the sea, and more optomistic that I could get a handle on things. Oh, and I discovered that it's almost impossible to sink in a wetsuit. This was fun!

Before too long it was time to get out of the water and strip off the (now very sandy) wetsuit. We left our gear with Ingrid, pulled on shorts and t-shirts, and jumped on our bikes. I started at the back of the pack, but by the time we arrived at the Zephometer I had caught the two road bikes at the front. We stopped briefly to discuss our ride, then as I was riding out of the car park I failed to clip in properly with my right foot and crashed over sideways, swearing loudly in the process. No major damage, so it was quickly back on the bike and off to catch the others.

The return leg was not so joyful, with the Northerly headwind causing me to seriously doubt my bike fitness, particularly with Duck's powerful legs propelling her past me again like I was going nowhere at all. And then I managed to somehow mess up the dismount, fail to unclip, and come smashing down again. For the second time. On the same ride. Like a complete dork.

Oh well, at least I got the 'fear of falling off' thing out of the way I guess. And I still cycled back to the gym. By the time I got there it was 7.30. I was wet, cold, sandy and salty. I had chafing from wearing the swimsuit while cycling, I was tired, and I had a huge amount of gear. The inevitable happened, and the thought of meeting up with Nic and Leonie at the Botanical Gardens became too much of a stress-inducing logistical nightmare. I bribed Hamish into coming to get me by offering to order Burger Fuel for dinner, and the evening was spent at home.

11pm saw me hosing the wetsuit off in the shower and packing my bag yet again for a 6.30am RPM class. The RPM class was hard - the first for the year. As I mentioned at the start of this post, bits of me now hurt! No Body Balance as I had to take my wetsuit back to The Swim Shop. The effort of bussing then walking over there was richly rewarded. I enquired into the price of a new wetsuit and was told that the normal price was $295. However there was a 15% sale on. Plus they would discount the $50 I'd just paid in wetsuit hireage.

I had just missed out on an Ironman wetsuit on Trademe. It had sold for $170, second-hand. It seemed like a no-brainer. The wetsuit I had just returned (which was brand-new when I hired it) was taken back out of the storage room and put back into my bag. I walked out with a $195 wetsuit.

It was such a beautiful evening tonight that I nearly celebrated my new purchase with another swim in the Bay. I'm loving the freedom of being able to go down and swim in the sea any time I like, without having to worry about getting cold. And I'm loving the idea that I'm now someone who loves going down to swim in the sea.

So again - I have to stop being so hard on myself. Maybe I need to tattoo that on my hand!

Back Into It

Back to work today after what has been an extraordinarily long holiday for both Hamish and I. The first day back is always pretty cruisey - lots of checking emails and catching up with colleagues and coffee breaks. I managed to get a little work done in between all the gossip, and that's the best that can be hoped for under the circumstances!

Today was also 'back into the training' day. I toyed with the idea of taking it easy on my first real day back, but that didn't seem like much fun. So it was up at 6.00am to head into the gym for my first weights session in three weeks. Although I feel like I've lost muscle tone I don't seem to have lost any real muscle strength, and I didn't have to drop my weights at all, which was a relief.

At 11.30am I started to feel like going for a run, so it was back to the gym changing rooms and out onto the pavement. I ran another half hour down to the waterfront and back. The out must have been quite fast, and I did get my 'fifteen minute stitch', which was annoying. Thankfully I ran through it and it eventually dissipated. I ran a little more slowly on the way back, got into a groove, and it was almost with regret that I arrived back at the gym. It was a gorgeous day for running, with a light Northerly keeping things reasonably comfortable. I'll have to head out for a longer run on Wednesday and start building my times up again. My knee feels fine and I'm confident I can up things without doing myself damage.

Come late afternoon the sun was out and I was in the mood for a swim. I was toying with walking down to Freyberg, but a colleague emailed me to say she was leaving for Thorndon soon, and did I want to come along? So Thorndon it was, which was more sensible really as it's much closer and near the bus terminal. I just feel fond of Freyberg, as it's where my swimming career began.

In the end Thorndon was an inspired choice. It was lovely swimming outdoors in the sun. At first the slow lane was fairly quiet, and I got several good lengths in, first swimming on my side, then doing a few lengths breathing to one side. Towards the end I practiced breathing to both sides for a few lengths. My main problem is breathing out enough so as to not get water up my nose when I eventually lift my head to breathe. If I keep breathing out until my head is out of the water I feel like I sound like a surfacing whale, making a big wet blowing noise. Thankfully Hamish has now told me that everyone sounds like that, so I guess I'm just normal.

When I started to tire I thought about getting out, but it was so lovely in the sun that I moved to the recreation lane and messed around for a while diving underwater, floating on a tire tube and on my back. I tried swimming on my side without flippers and sank, so I can see that's going to be my next challenge. I have to be realistic and accept that I may not have things down sufficiently to be ready to do 300m without flippers by the 28th of January, but there's always another event. I've realised it's better to not worry about working towards an event and just enjoy the process of learning.

Duck sent out an email this afternoon reminding us (as if I could forget) that tomorrow is the start of the second round of Women's Multis. However her next comment really threw me. Her instructions were to bring running, swimming and cycling gear. Gulp! I haven't got a wetsuit yet and I'm still not overly confident about swimming in the sea. I decided I would try to swim tomorrow with a floaty, rather than risk panicking in water over my head, at least for the first swim session. I'm still trying to decide whether to cycle to work in the morning - as it will involve carrying my running shoes, my swim gear and my office clothing all on my back. It might be easier to get Hamish to drop me off.

Nobody told me the logistics of triathlon training would be this difficult!

With the greatest of ease

Ok, so I haven't been near the pool all week. All week I was skating dangerously close to overtraining. In fact, if you looked at all closely, you would have thought I WAS overtraining.

On Monday I had a lesson with Lesleigh. It was a frustrating lesson, with the breathing taking forever to come right. We graduated from a kickboard to a small little floaty thing, then from that I tried swimming on my side, one arm extended, one at my hip. Just like Super Woman. Except that Super Woman doesn't sink. Right, well at least I managed to float on my back, and I knew what I had to do for my homework!

The day's workout was bookended with a fabulous run with the Jog Squad. We were sent on a scavenger hunt, up to the Basin Reserve, back down and up and down the side of Mt Victoria, down to Oriental Bay, up the very flight of stairs that were my nemesis when I first signed up for Special K at the start of the year, around the side of Te Papa, and back to the gym.

Our little group of women powered around the city on a beautiful, mild and still evening. Lisa and Allie knew all the shortcuts and we kept up a good pace as we left all the other teams in our wake. We were happy little red, sweaty tomatoes as we rounded the corner and made it back to the gym several minutes in the lead. did I mention that I've been feeling rather fit?

On Tuesday I got up early for a weights workout. As the day wore on little stressors kicked in. I was tired, work was stressful, and by the end of the day I was at meltdown. Which is what I promptly did. Enough said. I've posted about that little incident already.

On Wednesday the Jog Squad had its last session before Christmas, which could only mean a fitness test. On another still, warm evening we ran straight up the side of Mt Victoria - ten minutes up then straight back down. I got all the way to the summit sign, despite taking it easy and trying not to put too much pressure on my knee. My days of powering downhill are over. I loped down at a casual pace, letting the others speed past. This running thing seemed easy.

I probably would have been ok if I'd just gone home to bed, but I had a prior appointment with Nic and Leonie to see Casino Royale (highly recommended, incidentally). I didn't get to bed until Midnight, then was up at 6am for my session with Duck. I was still a bit angry about Tuesday, but I don't really hold grudges, so despite everything we had a good workout.

By Thursday afternoon I was bleary-eyed, and I didn't exactly feel a huge amount of joy when I discovered at 1pm that our staff Christmas party involved getting into teams and engaging in a complicated scavenger hunt the length of the city. Five hours of Amazing Race type of eventing left me clinging desperately to a thin veneer of Christmas cheer. It wasn't that I wanted to be grumpy - I was just too darn tired. I was glad I'd elected to miss the last Women's Multis session. I would have been whacked if I'd even tried a swim/cycle/run combo.

I was in bed by 9.30, having had only slightly too much to drink. I was up again at 5.30 for RPM. My legs were pretty dead from the Duck-bashing the day before, but I still managed to turn the dial up. Thankfully no one at work was really in the mood for concentrating after the day before's party. I felt entirely justified in sneaking out at 1pm for Body Balance. My poor aching body appreciated the opportunity to stretch.

Hamish's staff Christmas party was on Friday night, and on Saturday morning I surrendered to the idea that I was NOT getting out of bed to work out that day. I slept in till 11am, which in my world means that I REALLY needed a break. The only workout I got was pushing a shopping trolley up and down New World, then carrying a few bags of groceries down our 46 steps. Oh, and I cleaned the house and spent time with the cats. Miracles will never cease.

Likewise I slept in to 9am this morning, then spent only a few short hours in the Sanctuary with my fledglings. However I knew that I had to get to the pool today, because I need to be able to show Lesleigh some progress in swimming on my side when we have our last lesson tomorrow. The anxiety monster was out and about again. The water was cold, the earplugs uncomfortable. I had almost talked myself into a nothing practice session.

So what have I learned in the last week if not that I have to take it easy on myself sometimes? I backed off, did a little swimming on my side with a floaty, did a little rock-and-roll, did a little freestyle correction. Finally I had started to warm up and relax, and remember a little what it was I liked about this swimming thing.

The end result? Some half-lengths of the pool on my side, sans floaty, without sinking, and with my legs going vaguely in the right direction. Enough progress to feel like I won't be in trouble with Lesleigh.

I put too much pressure on myself. It's both a gift and a curse. I need to make sure that swimming, running and cycling remain fun. I made a conscious decision not to get out on my bike, even though I "should" have done. Having a break was more important than continuing to push myself. I am a lot stronger mentally than I used to be, but I have to recognise that I do still have limits. It's just that time of year.