Six weeks to go!

So it's only six weeks to go until my first triathlon and I am so excited today that I am jumping out of my skin.

First, of course, I have fab, HOT hair and I'm secretly loving the attention. And finally, finally, everything seems to be coming together in the nick of time.

Swim - I've been swimming twice this week and it went so much better. Something has clicked a bit more and I managed 1000m yesterday without huffing and puffing like a smoker running for the bus. I realised I was subconsciously focusing on using my arms to keep my head up, rather than using them to move forwards. It's still very hit and miss - I get it for a few strokes and then it all breaks down again. But now I sort of know what it should feel like, I can use that feeling. I'm still slow - yesterday this guy in the lane next to me was doing this crazy double-armed backstroke splashing stroke, and he was still going almost at the same speed as me. I choose to believe that the speed will come by itself if I work on my technique....

Bike - my road bike is in the bike shop as we speak getting a service, new tyres and all that jazz. Going to over to the UK at the beginning of July, and will bring it back with me.

Run - I'm actually trying to ease off on my running and do shorter, faster runs. Today, the work inter-departmental relay, which is perfect speed practice as I'm running a 4 km leg.

Another long weekend coming up. I won't have much time, so I'm planning 2 swims and a bike/run brick.

Hair!

Had hair cut! I love it!! But I am slightly in shock...

My new BFF

Here she is, my old girl. A little bit past her best, not very fashionable, and in need of some good lovin'. We have a lot in common the two of us.

At the moment it's a bit of a long distance relationship, she's in England, I'm in Switzerland. But I know we can make it work.

She's been neglected and lonely for many years, just waiting for me to come back and get her. Ooh baby, it's time.


(photo credits: my mum)

Carry on up the Gempen

If you had suggested to me five months ago that I would ever in my life choose to get up at 8 on a Sunday morning, in order to get on my bike and ride up a 759 m high mountain (ok, hill) , by myself, I would have looked something like this:



And then, this morning, I cycled up the Gempen.

The Gempen is that hill you can see in the distance from our balcony:




This idea has been simmering in my mind ever since someone told me there are great mountain biking trails up there. It's not a big hill, by Swiss standards, but I was pretty nervous about it.

Click on any of the pictures to enlarge and see just how hot and sweaty I was:



Yep, that's where I'm going.



Most of the first two thirds were off road.



It was hot.











And I freakin made it!

The Gempenturm at the top:




This picture was taken by a Swiss cyclist at the top who found me HILARIOUS:



I figured that if you can see the Gempen from our flat, then you can see our flat from the Gempen. And you can (in the middle of this picture). This is the view out over Basel, to the EuroAirport and into France.



Took me 1 hour 15 minutes to the top and 25 minutes back down again. Doesn't sound like much when you put it like that, but this was a huge personal goal for me.

Number of times my chain came off: 2
Swiss cyclists who didn't believe I could put my own chain back on: 2
Number of burning thigh muscles: 2
Other cyclists climbing the Gempen this morning: hundreds
Other female cyclists climbing the Gempen this morning: 3
Adrenaline used up on the way down: gallons
Number of hot, sweaty, proud, badass Shazzas: 1



Another personal goal bites the dust.

Ascension, descension

I'd been looking forward to this long weekend for ages. Thursday was a public holiday (Ascension) and we were given Friday off too. Nice. I had planned all sorts of fun training and relaxing and detoxing. But as so often when a holiday rolls around, all I wanted to do was sleeeeeeeeeeeeep.

Finally got up my nerve to get back in the pool today after almost 3 weeks. I hoped today would be better than last time. It wasn't. I have lost any ability I had to breathe correctly and after one length I am out of breath, gasping and my heart rate is about 200. I am doing something majorly wrong and I don't know what it is. If anyone has any ideas, please shout!

At least running and cycling are going well and I think I may have solved my road bike problems.

10 minutes, 10 km, 10 miles...

What a year this has been. In January, I decided that this was the year I was going to get fitter and start running again, and set out for a few plods. I couldn't even manage to run 10 minutes at first. In February, I realised that what I wanted most was to do a triathlon and I ventured tentatively out on my bike and into the pool. At the beginning of April, I ran a 10 km race, almost exactly 10 years after my last one. And things have just got better and better. On Saturday, I knew it was time to break another personal barrier, and I ran 10 miles.

I mapped out a route that passed by a drinkable fountain 3 times, and let myself go at whatever pace I needed. I had hydrated too much beforehand, so I had a stitch for the first 4 miles. But it didn't matter. I knew I was going to make it. I ran through the gorgeous Therwil forest once again. My legs didn't feel tired at all until the last miles or so and I had plenty in reserve. I still can't believe I ran TEN MILES!!!

Going further and further is kind of addictive, isn't it?!

I felt like SuperMum this weekend. Saturday - got up, shopped, cleaned flat, ran 1o miles, baked a cake with my daughter (then drank beer and watched the Eurovision song contest but we'll ignore that bit). Sunday - got up, cleaned flat some more, cycled into the forest with some friends for a barbeque - a belated birthday celebration for my daughter, came home and fed everyone coffee and cake, flaked out.....

EDIT: I just mapped my route on Buckeye Outdoors and realised I made a bit of a wrong turning in the forest, so my total distance was only 9.8 miles. Dammit! Still, I'll take it!

What's that funky smell?

Oh sorry that would be me. Yes, I am a total minger. I ran in a big thunderstorm on Tuesday, there was rain, there was mud, there was sweat and tears, there was squelching. Aftewards, I threw all my kit in my bag - shorts, sports bra, top, wet towel, socks. And to cap it all off, I put my running shoes in a plastic bag. And then I left it all there until today, when I wanted to run again.

It was bad. Really bad. Things were smelling.......foosty. And just to prove what a minger I am, I wore it all anyway. Luckily I was running on my own. I did have to draw the line at the shoes (which were still actually wet and possibly growing new life forms) and socks (which were frankly unspeakable). I had a spare pair of trainers at work, for just such a moment!

You'll be relieved to know it's all in the washing machine as we speak, apart from the shoes which are on the balcony scaring away small creatures. Need to be ready for my first ever 10 miler on Saturday.

Here come the pictures...official race pics from Therwil

Women are hilarious, really, aren't we? The official pictures from Sunday are up on the website, and my friend who also ran said to me "Oh my God, I have to go on a diet, I look so fat." I looked at the picture that had sent her into spasms of horror and of course, she did not look fat AT ALL, she looked great! I told her so, and she said no. So I said, "well look at me, I look enormous, it's hideous." And she said "What?!" Why can we not see what others see?

Anyway, here are some cool pictures, including me looking totally unhideous (maybe). (click to enlarge):

The start

Eagle eyed readers will spot my husband and daughter in this one

Beautiful surroundings

I'm in this one, in the distance - this is around the 7 km mark

Watch out, small juggernaut coming through!!

Just my face, much better.

I don't know who you are, but I like you!

Coolest ambulance ever

Swiss people + forest = someone will grill

Top 3 women. I am in awe

Race report and kicks up the backside

Therwil Crossrun 10 km

I’ve been looking forward to this race for long time, because it was a trail run through the forest. I was really hoping for a fast time, I thought I could significantly improve my time from the Birslauf where I didn’t push too hard at all. However, the day before the run, I was feeling so under-the-weather with a cold that I wasn’t sure whether I would even be able to run at all, and spent the afternoon lying around in bed. The husband and the daughter were still not 100% either, so I thought I may have to go alone which kind of scared me a little. By Sunday morning we were all well enough to head out.

I hadn’t registered before the race, and there was a long wait to get a number. Then the “few hundred metres” walk to the start turned out to be a good kilometer, all up a fairly steep hill. Walking this with a five-year-old was quite a chore and I wasn’t impressed. It was a muggy day, and there was no water provided at the start - if I’d left my bag down at the cloakroom (which is what I would have done if I’d been alone), and not had any water with me, I would have been cross and thirsty before the race even begun. There were no water stations on the run either, which I think is hard-going on a 10 km which will take plenty of people more than an hour to complete. But I had already experienced this at the Birslauf so I was expecting it and had hydrated to the max (over-hydrated it turned out!)

Once the race set off, I forgot about being hot and cross and tried to enjoy it. I went off hard, because I wanted to beat a) my PB and b) a colleague from work who was also running. I’ve run a few races in my time, but this was the first time I ever actually wanted to “race” as opposed to just make it all the way. And it was hard. My legs felt heavy and tired from the moment I set off, as if I had spent the previous night out drinking, and I never really got into my groove.

When I reached 5km (after what felt like an ETERNITY) I checked my watch, it said 11.28 am, and I really thought my chance of a PB was gone. I tried to calculate: At the start, we were sent off in waves (by start number), one minute apart. The first wave had gone off at exactly 11, and I was in the third wave. So, 11:02. So 11.28 meant 26 minutes, right? But what if my watch was synchronized with the starter’s watch? I thought I remembered checking as I crossed the line and seeing my watch say 11.01. So that meant 27 minutes. 27 minutes times 2, that’s 54 minutes, which is what I needed for my PB. So, I had to keep going at exactly the same pace, and I’d make it, but I couldn’t slow down at all. All this took about a kilometer to think about because my brain doesn’t work that well when I’m trying to run fast, not fall over and breathe, all at the same time. I realized that I need to learn to use the stopwatch on my fancy watch, or get a Garmin (in my dreams).

So I just had to keep going, keep pushing, however much I wanted to slow down and just enjoy the forest. I hate being passed and I hate being slow and I wanted to put in good performance.

Just before the 7 km mark, the course passed right next to the eventual finish, and there were the husband and the daughter. How wonderful it is to see people you know cheering you on when you’ve been running alone. It lifts my spirits so much and I gave them such a big smile and a wave and it spurred me on to kick out a bit more speed for a while. By now I was just counting down the kilometers and wanting to be done. I passed the 8 km marker at 11.44 on my watch, and by now was far too exhausted to try all that calculating again. The last km was absolute hell. In every race I’ve run before I’ve been able to put on a good finishing spurt, but not this time. I was spent, I had nothing left. I just had to keep moving my legs to the finish line and I just couldn’t go any faster, no matter what the clock said.

The route was really a nice one, but those forest trails are tiring, because you have to watch your footing every single step. It was an undulating course - I wouldn’t go so far as to call it hilly after the monster I ran in Lupsingen a few weeks ago. But I’m not sure the organizers had thought this through very well. First of all there was the walk to the start, and then the finish was right in the middle of the forest, which led to many people walking back along the race route to get to the village/cloakroom/tram station. It’s hideous, in the last 1 to 2 km of a run, to have to dodge people who have already finished their run, coming back towards you. Most of them, of course, kept out of the way, but there are always some selfish assholes who only know that they’ve finished and don’t think of anyone else and stop to talk to their friends or wander happily down the middle of the damn track. Not nice, not polite and stupid organization. In fact, there was a shorter, non-routey way back, but it wasn’t signposted and people who don’t know the area wouldn’t have thought to go that way. After the race we had to walk all the way back down that hill again to the tram stop, which took hours because the daughter was tired and hungry and didn’t want to walk. I had to carry her for a bit, which did not please my legs at all.

There was no post-race high after this race, I just felt tired and hot and exhausted. And a little like I had failed, because I had really wanted to hammer it and I just couldn’t. The photos that my husband took of me during the race just make me look like a small juggernaut, which didn’t make me feel too good either (yeah, I'll post them once I've uploaded them!!) So, I was pretty surprised when I checked the chip times online to find that I HAD beaten my PB, with a time of 54.36, and that I had come 8th out of 20 in my age group. I am getting faster, slowly but surely, but did it really have to hurt that much for a 41 second improvement???

Speed Kills

I am not even going to talk about today’s run. It was one of those runs that makes you want to hang up your running shoes for good. I cried. I told myself to HTFU but I still cried. I ran with people from work and they dropped me like I wasn’t even frikkin moving. Yeah, luckily they were way too far ahead of me to see that I cried. Why am I so stupidly competitive? Why are they?? It totally, utterly sucked.

2 months to go

Yesterday marked exactly 2 months to go until my triathlon. I still don’t have a road bike, and I’m not sure I’m going to be able to get one. I cannot swim more that 100 m crawl (if I’m lucky) without having to rest. I am not training enough, especially not swimming because, as well as involving somehow getting to a pool when it's actually open, it’s just torture for me. I can’t afford a bike, I can’t afford swimming lessons, and work and family-life are just draining ALL my energy right now.

I just don’t want to give up though. There are two things in my life that make me incredibly happy. One is my daughter and the other one is sport. I love to be outdoors, getting down and dirty, in the rain, in the forest, sweating, breathing, pushing myself as hard as I can. Then I feel alive. I didn’t do it for almost 8 years and they were some of the worst years of my life.

It’s hard not having anyone to share this journey back to fitness with and I feel very lonely. My husband is supportive, but only as long as it doesn’t cost anything. The blog world helps a lot, but everyone just seems so much….so much more everything than me. Everyone has a car, a bike, a wetsuit, a Garmin, some even have a coach. My colleague here at work is training for a half-ironman and we talk about it sometimes, but her situation is so different from mine - she works part-time, has plenty of money, a car, a friend helping her with swimming. I’m doing this all alone, with a (more-than) full-time job, trying to support my family. My husband has exams almost constantly and when he’s not caught up in studying, he’s playing computer games. I’m lonely and I’m tired.

I’m sure I’ve said it before, but I’ll rant about it again: Switzerland is not a country where there are “have-a-go” or “try-a-tri” triathlons. People here are “Do or do not, there is no try”. They buy the right equipment, they look the part, they have the right body shape and they DO. There are no Athena athletes, no Clydesdales, no women’s only events, no doing events for charity, no dressing up as a giant banana. These things are SERIOUS. The times from the Züri tri last year are FAST and I am not.

I keep asking myself why I am doing this, why don’t I just quit and try again next year. I could just stick to running this year, run a marathon maybe. Then I go and read someone’s blog, a race report, their description of becoming an ironman or their first triathlon and I WANT IT SO BAD. I want this. I’m not a person who quits because something is a challenge. Oh, I quit very easily when something bores me, for sure, but not because something’s a challenge. I love the challenge of triathlon, just as I love the challenge of running faster.

I love Basel but sometimes being an expat is the pits. I miss my old friends so much, the ones who really “got me”. It’s been years since I’ve had that kind of companionship. I miss my family. I miss knowing how things work and being able to communicate with everyone. I have a few friends here, but there is no one I could call when I’m down, no one to give me a hug, and no one who will kick my butt. I need this triathlon to fill the empty hole in my life that aches for something more.

Shock Absorber, I love you!!!

On Wednesday, my shock absorber bikini arrived in the post. Oh YES I love love love it!! It really is just as fabulous as they say. Pictures may follow if you're lucky! For me, a bikini with top and bottoms both fitting me, at the same time, and which doesn't fall off when I actually go in the water and where none of my bits fall out when I move, this is the holy grail. I have biggish boobs and tiny hips, so when I try to buy a normal bikini where the top and bottom are bought together, the bottoms are always HUGE on me. I've only had one other bikini in my life that actually fit me well, and I had to go all the way to Miami to get that one (perhaps I have an American figure and not a British one - no one is less "pear-shaped" than me!). Here's a pic of The Bikini, with someone else inside:


My only minor, minor complaint about the Shock Absorber is that it is only produced in one colour so far. They describe it as slate/heather, but to me the heather looks suspiciously pink. I hope that lots and lots and LOTS of women buy them so that they decide to make some alternative colours. All the websites are listing this as a Bestseller already, and I had to wait for mine due to "unprecedented demand" so it looks like maybe I'm not the only desperate larger-boobed lady. Anyway, it's only the details that are pink and not the rest of it. It fits, it's gorgeous and I can't wait to try it out in the pool. I will give a full report when I do.

I'm not sure whether I would actually run in the top though, I prefer absolutely zero movement of the boobs when I run. So for a triathlon, it wouldn't really work, I'll need to wear my old Shock Absorber which holds my puppies in place. Yes, only Shock Absorber sports bras in Shazza's house, and I have to get them from the UK . Shock Absorber, I love you and all your fabulous sports bras!

I haven't managed to get any training at all for a week what with all the family drama, except for one bike commute to work. Now it's my turn to have a cold so I'm taking it really easy today. I have a 10 km race tomorrow which I've been really looking forward to because it's cross country in the forest, and because I'm excited to find out what it's like to race 10 km when it's NOT the longest distance I've ever run. If my cold stays in my head, I'll do it.

Man, my blog is girlie this week! Haircuts and bikinis?? WTF, did I actually turn into a girl? This must be what happens when I don't train. I've actually hardly even given triathlon a thought for a week, and I'm getting some withdrawal symptoms. But life's good, everyone seems to be getting better, and I'm heading back to bed for some warm, daughter cuddles. I don't think you can really have a "recovery week" when you train as little as I do, but when my body says "REST", that's what I need to do.

Good hair days

So yesterday I posted this on my Facebook status: "Opinions please: I really want to cut my hair short (really short), and my husband is asking me to please, please not cut it. What would you do?" The response was overwelmingly "GO FOR IT!"

I am not asking my husband's permission about this, you understand, I am just trying to keep him happy. But hair is an important reflector of our personalities and how we feel about ourselves, and right now, I just don't feel like me. Besides, as one of my work colleagues once said to me (and I liked this so much I wrote it down and stuck it by my desk): "It's not your job to make people happy. You're not a clown."

So this is it, after 5 years of wanting to cut it and giving in to other people's preferences, the hair is going SHORT.

My hair now:






The direction I'm going in (the first two pictures are an actress called Shannyn Sossaman, in case you're interested):





I already spoke to my hairdresser about this last time I was there. He got very excited, because he likes girls with short hair, and I guess it's a fun part of the job cutting off really long hair and creating a short style. I totally trust him, I know he understands what styles will fit my face shape (square!) and what I want. He told me that with my thick, wavy, uncontrollable hair, I need to go really short - in between styles just won't work.

Anyway, this post is way too girly for me and as my husband said yesterday evening "CAN WE JUST STOP TALKING ABOUT YOUR HAIR NOW PLEASE!" But I'm so excited. Now I've made the decision, I can't wait, it's so time. Bring it on!!

Birthdays, earthquakes and backaches

So here's a totally unedited, slightly manic little update on the last few days. Please bear in mind, it's 7.45 in the morning and I didn't get much sleep last night...

Thursday - daughter came home from her Acroballet class tired but ok. My colleague had lent me the DVDs of season 1 of Gossip Girl so we spent the evening introducing ourselves to Blair, Serena and co. My husband helpfully explained to her that on the night of April 30th, all the witches climb a mountain in Germany and dance naked. So she was scared of witches all night.

Friday - May day holiday. Daughter woke up with a fever. Great. She and I spent most of the day sleeping. At about 3 o'clock I couldn't stand staying indoors anymore, so I went down into the city. As usual on a holiday or Sunday in Basel, it was absolutely full of people wandering around and desperately looking for something to do. I really wanted to be near water, which always calms me, but the banks of the Rhine were so full of people, it was about as relaxing as a shopping mall at Christmas. So I walked around for a while, listening to NIN, and then walked all the way home.

Saturday - Daughter even sicker and now husband has a bad back. Great! I did a little shopping in preparation for daughter's birthday on Monday and slept a lot. Again.

Sunday - Daughter feeling a little better, hurrah. Husband thought that swimming might help his back so he took daughter with him to St Jakobs while I faffed about at home wrapping presents etc etc. Then cycled to the pool to join them, swam a very little bit, cycled home and then went out for a long run. 13.5 km, 1 hour 20 minutes, once again the longest I've ever run. It was really hot and sticky, but beautiful in the forests. Next Sunday I have a 10 km race, and the weekend after, I think it's time for my first ever 10 miler. Yee ha!!! Then I came home and baked a cake. I do NOT bake (or cook at all if I can help it) so this was more of a challenge than the run.

Monday - My daughter's 5th birthday!!! Cue maternal gushing about how my baby is already 5 and so grown up. I had already asked her whether she'd like me to take the day off so we could spend it together, but she was adamant that she wanted to go to daycare, to play with her friends, which she much prefers to being at home on her own. I wasn't too disappointed, I also wanted to go to work and play with my friends. Hey, I spent 2 and a half years on maternity leave and then last year I spent 4 months unemployed. I do not like staying at home, AT ALL. I'd rather have almost any job, than no job. And right now, I'm so lucky to have a job with people I actually like and with the best bosses in the world. Sometimes I whinge about wishing I had a more prestigious job and more money, but I'm well aware how lucky I am. So I was really, genuinely happy to go into work on Monday morning. After our regular Monday Morning Meeting, my phone ran almost immediately, my daughter's daycare asking me to please pick her up again. She had a fever and was just lying around looking miserable.

She spent her birthday feeling terrible, and ended it with a trip to the doctor's. No cake, no birthday dinner, and a half-hearted opening of presents. After all the planning and buying and organising, it was such a shame, but oh well. Life happens.

In the meantime, my husband's back was getting worse and he was just sitting around and looking miserable too. Which is the worse patient: the five-year-old or the forty five-year-old? I'll leave that to you to decide.

Monday night - A common scenario in our house. Daughter in our bed, me in my daughters bed to escape the coughing/snoring/whatever other noises the two of them can come up with. I woke up suddenly feeling like someone was shaking my bottom half. WTF??? I looked around for daughter, or ghosts, or a cat. Nothing. I was completely freaked out and then I realised EARTHQUAKE!! Nah, I must have dreamt it and eventually I went back to sleep. Turns out it really was an earthquake - 4.5 on the Richter scale. My daughter was born in a thunderstorm under an orange moon, so it makes sense there should be an earthquake the night of her birthday.

Tuesday - Daughter still ill, husband crippled. I escaped gratefully to my peaceful office.

Tuesday night - I am once again sleeping in my daughter's bed. My husband is sleeping in the living room because of his back. My daughter has our double bed all to herself. Around 3, I hear plaintive cries from the living room. Have to get up and call the doctor, because my husband is in some kind of spasm and cannot move. Our doctor is a lovely, perfect, very very Swiss woman. I am quite sure that her house does not have a single molecule out of place. So I run around at 3 am tidying the flat, rather than tending to my suffering hubby. Priorities. She arrives (looking perfect) and gives him lots of drugs and an injection so he can at least move again. He goes to bed with our daughter, and I go back to daughter's bed.

Now it is Wednesday, daughter is STILL sick, and asleep. Husband is moving again and has gone to university and I am at home, writing my blog. So there you go. Who knows what today will bring?

Now I'll go faster with my new helmet!

The old




The new

Thanks to my lovely mum, I now have a cycling helmet that looks a little more speedy than my ancient bucket. (My daughter took the pics, not bad for a 5 year old!!)

Who the heck is that???

Is this really what I look like when I am running?? Good lord! Not quite the lean, mean, running machine image that I have in my head! In my defense, it was a very hot and very hilly race on Saturday, and this picture was taken at around 9 km, after the world's longest hill. 12.3 km and 1 hour 12 minutes - further and longer than I've ever run before. Cooooooool!!!

More to follow....

Lunchtime lunacy

Running from the office at lunchtime has its pros and cons.

Pros:
It's the only time I actually have company when I work out, and I run with some really cool people
It gets me out into the forest at lunchtime instead of sitting on my butt indoors all day;
I'm known as a "runner" in my department, I love being one of the "fit" people
It gets one workout over for the day and leaves the evening free for another, or for family stuff
I get ridiculously competitive and work harder than I would if I was alone

Cons:
Changing in the toilet
Walking around the office in your running clothes. Sometimes people decide that's the moment to talk to you about work - I always feel self conscious and pretty much naked
When I come back from a run, I am a delightful shade of magenta - I think I look fit and hardcore until I see myself in the mirror and discover that I just look like a sweaty tomato
Certain people in the department feel entitled to comment on my fitness/weight at great length (MY fitness, MY weight, MY business)
We run for an hour, but add in waiting for people at the start, waiting for people at the end, showering, eating and regaining senses, it's more like a 2-hour thing
I get ridiculously competitive and work harder than I should

Yesterday's workouts:
Lunchtime run. Where I got ridiculously competitive with a colleague and worked crazy hard, and had a fabulous run.

A failed evening swim. After a beautiful sunny day, as I sat on the tram to the pool the heavens opened. No problem, I like swimming in the rain. As I sat on the bus, it began to thunder. Less good. I arrived at the pool with a few minutes to spare before last entry. It was raining cats and dogs and there was thunder all around me. As I walked up to the woman to pay, the sky was split open above my head with a big fork of lightening. Enough, I turned around and went home.

Evening strength workout. Annoyed by not having swum, I worked my arms and core as hard as I could for 45 minutes. I hurt today.

Tonight:
Another attempt at making it to the pool.

Coming up this weekend:
My mum is visiting over the weekend, and so I'm taking Friday off (YES!!) to spend with her. And ok, I might take advantage of the time before she gets up to go for a swim. And on Saturday afternoon I'm dragging the poor woman out to a village in the middle of Baselland to watch me run 12.3 km. I've never run further than 10 km before. Cool!

And in other news:

UP THE WOLVES!!

Kickin' it

Confession: last night I blew off a party (and I don't get invited to many parties these days) because I wanted to get up early this morning and go swimming. I actually can't believe I'm writing that! The way I looked at it was that I have been to many, many parties in my life, but I have never got up early on a cool, April Sunday morning to go and train in an outdoor pool. I'm not the kind of person who can go to a party and not get wasted, and when I drink, I know I won't train the next day. And I really, really wanted to train. It was the right decision even though I'm sure this makes me offically middle-aged. But look at this picture, who could resist jumping into that water?



The St Jakob sport pool (that's the one at the bottom in the picture) opened for the season yesterday. It's a 50 m pool and wow, swimming in a 50 m pool is way more tiring than a 25 m pool. After 600 m I could hardly swim anymore, and I gave in after 800 because my form (such that I have) had completely gone. The water is heated, but the air was cold. Whichever arm was out of the water got a blast of cold air. But the sunlight sparkling on the floor of the pool more than made up for that. I timed myself over 500 m, which is the distance I have to swim in my race, and I am sloooooooooow. I need to swim as much as possible over the next 12 weeks, and with the outdoor pools opening, it's going to be fun.

Then I went out for a slow, easy bike ride this evening. Just to get some miles in my legs. I wore non-cycling clothes to go cycling, because when I wear the whole shorts-cycling top outfit, I feel kind of pressured to look like I know what I'm doing. Spent several kilometres trying to work out which part of my bike was rubbing to make this swoosh, swoosh noise. Finally figured out it was my baggy shorts rubbing my little frame-bag thingy with every turn of the pedals.

Now my daughter is asking for her bedtime story and I'm pretty much ready for bed myself. Goodnight!

Bricking it

Things have not been that great chez Shazza recently, and as a result I've been feeling stressed and grumpy. And for whatever reason, when I'm feeling down, I rebel against doing the things that would make me feel better. So instead of doing the things I know will help (hard training, not drinking, eating well), I've been busily doing the opposite (avoiding training, drinking lots and eating as much chocolate as I can fit into my body).

This weekend, I decided that some serious butt-kicking (my own) was needed. I don't like being in a funk and I wanted to get motivated again. I wanted to do a serious workout, something that would be a challenge and make me remember who I am and why I do it. My first choice was a mountain race up the Wasserfallen, which is just 7.8 k, but with 490 m height difference (click on this link to see the worst ever route map). However, for various reasons, I decided that this wasn't such a great plan.

Then, I had a better idea. I would do my first ever brick workout.

I've never quite understood why it's called a brick. Is it because you build one workout on top of another? Or because it makes you shit bricks (UK slang for being really scared)? Or is because your legs feel like bricks when you start trying to run? And no, I couldn't resist a picture of a brick.

I cycled 11 km (35 mins) and then ran about 3.6 km (22 mins). With a transition time of 3 mins (including locking my bike and taking my stuff indoors) that made the whole thing exactly 1 hour, which is kind of cool itself.

The bike leg was pretty easy, apart from the hill that I call the Predigerhof hill. I hardly felt like I'd worked out at all. I've learned now to stay in a lower gear that I think I should and keep a higher cadence (oooh, the new words I am learning), to keep from getting tired so quickly. Starting the run was hilarious! Of course I've read a million times about the bike/run transition, but I'd never actually experienced it for myself. I was happily laughing to myself "so this is what they all mean!" I can't even imagine what it must be like after 56 or 112 miles of cycling, although I intend to find out someday. I was surprised that it wasn't the hamstrings or quads that felt tired, it was the lower muscles in my calves, ankles and around my knees that were really complaining. It took almost the whole run before I felt like I wasn't running like a duck.

It wasn't quite the suicide workout I was looking for, almost too easy. But I have to confess that I felt kind of hardcore and triathlete-y . "Oh yeah, I'm doing a brick workout, training for a triathlon actually." I am a such a geek! I know that most of the people on my blogroll would eat me for breakfast. My hardcore weekend workout wouldn't even cause them to break into a sweat! On the other hand, in January I could only run 1o minutes without stopping, so I've come a long way baby. It's all relative and one day, I'll be where they are. (OK, I'll probably never be where Bree Wee is, but watch out the rest of you...)

The 50 m outdoor pool opened for the season yesterday, so I'm planning a swim session tomorrow. Swimming outdoors in April is pretty hardcore too. Yep, total geek!

Very belated RACE REPORT

Two weeks ago I ran my first 10 km in 10 years. Yay!! It was a local race called the Birslauf, which goes up one bank of a river called the Birs, over a bridge and back down the other side. In other words, it's an almost completely flat course.

My husband and daughter came down to the race with me, which was great. I was so nervous, I would probably have chickened out if I'd had to go alone. We arrived very early and watched as hundreds of lean, fit people stretched and "warmed up". My husband asked if I wanted to warm up, and I laughed at the idea of running further. I was having serious doubts that I could even run 10 km.

I fixed my chip onto my laces, which was exciting for me, having never run a chip-timed race before (I don't think they'd been invented the last time I ran a race!). Then I had a small panic because I'd forgotten to bring any safety pins. Hello, this is Switzerland! Not only was there a box full of safety pins at the numbers desk, but they'd been sorted into little pin-families of 4!!

I amused myself for a while by checking out the crowd of lean, fit people in expensive running gear and trying to spot the ones who looked like I might be able to beat them. There were not many and mostly they were over 70. Then everyone began ambling to the startline and I kissed the family goodbye and followed. I decided to hang out way at the back, as I still wasn't sure what my pace would be, or if I could even run the whole way. There was a woman sitting on a rock in the middle of all these runners, smoking a cigarette. I didn't see anyone I knew so I just waited until something happened. Being Switzerland, there was no fuss. At exactly 6 o'clock a gun went and off we ran.

Can you spot me in this picture?

It had been a long time since I ran in a crowd and it was really strange at first. It was also the first race I've ever run alone, without my friend Emma at my side to keep me company. We ran round the park, past the giant dinosaur and out onto the river bank. Although this was only a small local race, there were a few people dotted along the course cheering us on and some kids ringing big Swiss cowbells which made me laugh. In fact, I could hardly stop smiling once we'd set off and the nerves had settled. I was running. I was racing. I was one of the fit people again. I'd forgotten why I loved to run in races. Nerves and endorphins and collective energy make me feel somehow connected to all these people and I want to hug everybody! It's like going clubbing but with no need for drugs.

We ran up the river for a while, and I was fully occupied with passing people on the narrow river path. Apparently starting at the back had been a mistake. I began to see people flaking out after only a couple of kilometers, and the lead runners passed us going back along the other bank after just 20 minutes and we all cheered. The first half hour went quickly and I couldn't believe it when we crossed the bridge for the turnaround. I still felt fresh so I speeded up and began passing even more people. The 5 km marker was shortly after the bridge as we headed back toward the park.

At around 6 km I began to feel that I'd been running for a while. I'd been passing people for the whole race and only been passed myself a few times. At around 7 km I began to slow down. It was hot, I was thirsty and there were no water stations in this race. I thought maybe I could take it slowly for the last few km, and still maybe break my goal time of an hour. My training runs in Allschwil forest are around 8 km and my body began to tell me that it was nearly finished. I wasn’t smiling anymore, I just wanted to finish and find something to drink.

Then these two girls passed me. I'd noticed them when I passed them on the way out, because one of them was head-turningly gorgeous. She was running with a friend and looked as cool as if she ran 10 km every day before breakfast. Exactly the pacer I needed! I was not going to let her get away. I speeded up and decided to keep their pace for the next km, even though it felt really hard. Now, I was racing. In fact, I never lost sight of them again until the end, when I overtook them in my finishing adrenaline-sprint. Sorry about that, lovely-looking pacer-girl. I have you to thank for my PB, I'd never have been motivated to run that fast without following you.

By the time the 8 km marker appeared, I was smiling again because I knew I was going to finish, and finish running. As we ran back into the park, some little girls had their hands out for high-fives, which I gave enthusiastically because I've never done that in a race before either. Much to my own amazement, I was holding the faster pace. I couldn't remember whether my only previous 10 km time had been 58 minutes or 56 minutes, so I knew that anything under 56 would be a PB. I could see the clock over the finish reading 55-something so I sprinted in, overtaking everyone so that my husband completely missed my finish.

He found me when the friendly Datasport woman was cutting my chip off my shoe and I jabbered at him about my PB while he took a photo. My daughter cried because she'd been playing and didn't see me finish. I told it was because mummy was SO FAST!

So there you go. Giant dinosaurs, cowbells and a PB. It doesn't get much better than that. Luckily there's a spring Birslauf (April) and a fall Birslauf (September) so I can do it all again in a few month's time.

Official time 55:17
Rank 105 (out of 255 women)
Average split 5.31

So, anyway, isn't this a triathlon training blog?

I'm discovering that writing a blog is harder than it seems. First of all, it's way more time-consuming. I have so many posts in my head, but they never make it to the screen. And what to write about raises other problems. If I just write about my day-to-day training (or lack of) then my loyal reader(s) (Hey Missy!!) will be bored to tears.

Maybe I need to share some of the crazy backstory. But collecting my thoughts in some kind of coherent order and putting them out there for the world (and my mum) to see? That's tougher than any training session can be. How much do you really want to know about me anyway?

I love to read bloggers who get more introspective and tell me about what's going on inside their heads. It makes me feel connected to someone, like I'm not the only crazy, anxiety-ridden loon who thinks way too much. So it seems only fair to share some of my craziness in return. When I can find a way to write about it that doesn't make me sound like Marvin the paranoid android, you'll be the first to know.

So, anyway, isn't this a triathlon training blog?

Training has been not-happening for the past 10 days or so. Just not happening. So I'm not going to talk about it. I cajoled myself out for a run today by promising myself that I could walk as much as I wanted. In the end, I didn't walk much, but I really felt like it had been a looooooong time since I last ran. It took 45 minutes before my legs seemed to get it. "Ah, running, now we remember...."

Marvellous Monday meanderings

It's a marvellous and magical day outside and the weekend was so good! I do NOT feel like being at work this morning! Spring has finally arrived, it's warm, the sky is blue and the trees are bursting enthusiastically into life. I want to be outside, hiking up a mountain, eating lunch on a rock with a view that seems to take in the whole world.

Instead I am inside, drinking coffee, with too much work to do. Oh well.

Here is a picture from the finish of the 10 km race on Saturday.

As you can see, I was very happy! I was so nervous at the start, but as soon as the gun went off I had the biggest smile on my face and I think it stayed there the whole way. I loved it! I'm running again! And I beat my PB (which was either 56 or 58 minutes, I can't remember...). My official time was 55:17. Not bad for an almost-middle aged mum who a few months ago couldn't run for 10 minutes! I'll write a full race report soon, because it was such a funny evening.

I also managed to fix my mountain bike and go out for a "recovery" ride yesterday. After all my whinging, of course, it took about 15 minutes to fix it. My quads were burning going up the hill and I felt like hell afterwards. I don't fully trust my bike though, I feel very insecure riding. I don't quite trust the brakes and I don't trust the gears, so I feel very tentative. No new bike yet , still working on that one.

My daughter has gone away for four days, and it's school holidays, so I'm planning deliciously quiet, guilt-free swims tonight and Wednesday. I'm pretty much terrified by how good things look right now. Am I feeling this fabulous because I'm getting fitter, because I'm doing something I love, because I'm not drinking? Who knows? If I could bottle this feeling I'd be a gazillionaire, but perhaps it's dangerous to question it too much. Bring it on!