5. The cycle... well almost

Getting ready for the cycle was a lot harder than I had anticipated. Prior to this, the last time I had been on the bike was for the 94.7... In 2005 and to be completely honest, I had been on the bike once before that to train for the 94.7. Before that was at primary school. Si fu Bruce (an inspiration to anyone trying to better themselves) convinced me to join a team.  For all intent and purposes it worked out pretty well. I managed to finish the race... maybe not well, but I did finish. That being said, I was in the peak of my athletic life.  Doing kung fu 4 times a week, 3 to 4 hours a day. Strong as an ox, super fast and just wouldn't say die. So obviously, in my mind I had the cycle under control. 

First thing, was to get a bike. Holy hell so many beautiful choices and none of them I could afford.  Mean machines, fast machines, beautiful machines. I managed to settle on a umm... machine.  More like jalopy.  Found an old Giant 7 speed road bike that I could afford and immediately jumped on the offer.  It was going for a third of the price of the cheapest one I had seen until then. Man I need to win the lotto. 

Regardless got the bike, cleaned it up, serviced it, perks of being a mechanic I'm pretty good with that type of stuff. My jalopy was looking like a baby now, and ready to hit the road.  First run, I decide to ride to work. It's only 20km, so I know it's manageable.  Don the helmet, high viz jacket and get going. About 3 km down the road, my 8 year old cleats (never been used btw) decide they were not prepared for this. The entire sole of the shoe comes off mid stroke. Problem, I can't exactly head back home, I'm going to be late for work. I press forward with one cleat and one... almost cleat. Manage the 21 km's in about an hour. The ride home was done in safety boots.  Just as entertaining, but a lot more comfortable.  

As time progressed I got a lot more comfortable and faster on the bike. Slowly started gathering gear.  Almost started looking like a cyclist, until... I'm not sure if this has happened to anyone else before but I felt like a real tool.  Finally managed to get a new pair of cleats, and on the first trial run, first traffic light I stop at something tells me... you're forgetting something dumbass.  Then I stop and try to put my foot down for balance.  Alas, my foot is still clipped in.  I somehow managed to completely get off the bike and walk away, milliseconds before I could taste the flavour of the pavement. The bike went one way, and I went the other.

Talk about the walk of shame.  Having to face the drivers of the cars next to me while I go pick the bike up must have been the single most embarrassing moment ever.  None of them drove away, even though the traffic light turned green, probably because they couldn't control their bodies from hysterical laughter.

TIP OF THE DAY: Don't try out cleats in peak hour traffic. Admittedly, the cleats do make the world of difference, when you eventually learn to use them correctly. 

A few weeks down the road I am really getting good with this cycling thing.  Ride to work is taking 45 min, I'm enjoying the view, zipping through traffic just like a real cyclist.

I had been training about 2 months and felt ready for the 94.7 in 3 weeks.  Figured it was time to try my hand at a real ride longer than 20km. A friend tells me to try out Suikerbos Rand Nature Reserve.  Apparently it's a nice game ride, great view, good road and best of all no traffic.  Of course I didn't notice any of this, I was too busy trying not to die.  It started with a 4km climb... about 90 ͦ incline, 20 km later, there was another 12 km climb... also about 90 ͦ It was a real killer. When I was done I decided I had to do it again before the race, so I went back the next week. Of course this time I did notice the view.   Tearing down at 40km/h the springboks bound effortlessly next to me as if curious to see what I was doing. Amazing, I was hooked on cycling. 

The next week I completed the 94.7 in 3h40min a full hour faster than my first attempt (when I was in my prime).  Felt really good about it like I could do any other race.  Kept at it, managed to get my average time for 90 km down to 3 hours, and figured I was ready for Midlands Ultra.  We all know how misinformed I was, don't we.  Now I am proud to say I have been training harder, putting in the time and effort and writing this, I am forced to look back and realize that all things considered, I am finally becoming a serious athlete. Even if it is for no reason other than my hilarious, stupid moments are slowly dwindling, making room for actual improvement in the sport itself.  It almost feels as if I am not so silly anymore, making fewer stupid mistakes, I am basically more seriously on my way to getting there. 

4. Mastering the swim

I'm really excited about this whole Iron Man thing and am so keen to get the training started. The cycle doesn't really phase me, nor does the run, so I start with the swim. Being a water baby myself, I reckon it can't be too bad. I mean I grew up in the water, taught myself to swim and everything. I grab a towel, and head off to the pool... this is gonna be so damn fun.

Get to the pool, along with Joe and Stace... I gotta admit I'm always dragging my family along to all my little adventures, and they obediently tag along, game to give whatever the flavour of the day is a try. It's the 3 of us at the pool, not a big pool just 25m. Early September and the days are starting to get nice and warm. Which of course gives me this false sense of security when I see the sign... "Pool heater out of order" I can already see in their eyes, they are not too keen on this insanity, but they persevere ( not sure if it's out of fear of me or just curiosity as to where this was going).We get to the water and right away I'm in... to my surprise, the sign saying the water temperature was 23 degrees was greatly exaggerated. It was more like 2.3 degrees to me! Remind me again why I'm doing this!!!!

I manage to maintain my composure, enough in fact to see Joe jump in as well... and get out just as fast. Almost as if he jumped on a trampoline, he jumped in feet first, and only managed to get his ankles wet. Seeing this, Stace didn't even bother getting in, she was the wise one. She grabbed my program, and started reading for me, assuming the role of coach. Joe immediately found the sunniest part of the place and started defrosting while he waited for us... much like a lizard, baking in the sun. Kinda reminded me of a chop on the braai.

Man, am I already hungry? This cold water is getting to me, I'd better move to keep warm. So I start, 2 warm up laps and my shoulders are dying, my lungs are bursting. Stace shouts out... 1 arm drills.. WTF? What is that? How do they expect me to swim with 1 arm? I just barely managed to do the warm ups. Man, I'm in trouble. I push through the program I had found and eventually ( In my mind 12 hours later) I hear her say... and the last one, 100m sprint. Jeeeez, I survived.. wheezing, sputtering coughing like an old jalopy in dire need of an oil change, I get out... This is gonna take some work.

Immediately, as I get home I start researching. Go out and get all the toys I need, pull buoys, kick boards, the works. I'm gonna do this. Next pool session, I found a proper heated 50m pool, was doing drills, and actually progressing. Almost to a point I could do a full length of 50m without stopping. This was getting serious. So I was working on my stroke, stamina, endurance and speed for like 2 weeks, could even do a full lap, when I see this old man coming for a swim. While I'm getting ready, he gets in and starts swimming. I take a moment to watch him and I think to myself... "self, he's not going that fast. His strokes are really slow and he's old and he's fat.... maybe I should race him. BUT DON'T TELL HIM" I get in and get ready, timing it for when he comes around for his next lap.

As soon as he turns, I'm off like a flash. A full on sprint. I mean, I'm tearing down that lane, I'm surprised I'm even touching water, I'm that fast. I get to the other end, and look up... The "old, fat man" is already halfway back and looks like he's not even changed his speed... and I couldn't do another lap if my life depended on it. Dammit, back to the drawing board. More research.  More practice. More drills. I eventually meet a group of guys training for the Iron Man and they invite me to join them for the swim training. Bonus! Just what I needed. They give me their program and we start working together. It was really hard work, the training partners really helped.  I kid you not, 2 months later I was ready for my first race... in fact, it turns out the swim section of that race for me was the easiest.

As time goes by, I will be posting the different programs that are working for me, until then, I am still in the process of tweaking and adjusting them to get the most out of them. Wouldn't want any triathlete hopefuls trying my programs and do more damage than good. The one thing that has been consistent, I've found, is that everyone says you need to do what's best for you. Everybody has different strengths and weaknesses and shouldn't follow someone blindly. Until then, keep at it, I will be posting what I can along the road to getting there.