Saturday, February 23, 2013

Traps for young players

In which LBTEPA faffs on about triathlon and blogging.
First, some race tips, numbered for your convenience, and traps for young players.

1. A bit of this before a race never goes astray
2. It's all good fun until you smack yourself in the face with your handlebars getting your bike out of the car. By mid-week it was a full-on shiner. Tres embarrassing.

3. Pretending it's not happening and that you've just met for a coffee is a good strategy
until the zombies arrive  
(these are my  irritatingly skinnyfast friends. They swam in those shirts (!!), re-applied their gore in T1 and deservedly won the costume prize)
Trap for young players #1: PUT YOUR CHIP ON. DO NOT LEAVE IT IN YOUR BAG.
Trap for young players #2: should you happen to have failed to achieve Tfyp#1, DO NOT DROP THE F- BOMB IN A LOUD VOICE IN A PUBLIC PLACE. That IS. NOT. CLASSY. Trap for young players #3: should you happen to have failed to achieve both Tsfyp #1 and #2, you must Keep. Going. Get out there and ride your bloody heart out and hope with all that's left of it that by some miracle it will all have been sorted out by the time you get back for the run.
Best thing about small country triathlons: the marshall at the end of the bike leg (T2 to us uber-triathletes) calling LBTEPA, LBTEPA (I know him from the tri club), here's your chip!! and handing it to me so my teammates would have their splits and a total race time since I started in the first wave.
4. Always race in sunglasses.They make you look cool as you EMBRACE THE SUCK.
5. Put your fast bloke last. Fast blokes make you all look good and it's nice to watch them run.


Trap for young players #4: decide that since you have staggered through four weeks' preparation for an extremely short triathlon you can now train as much as you want, including two two runs, two rides and two murderous sessions with the tri club swim squad, most of whom are five weeks out from Ironman Melbourne and who think 16x50 fasterfasterfaster is something you do more than once in a session *fans self*. It's either flattering that the coach thinks I'm up for what he's throwing at me or he is trying to kill me. It's hard to hold back in the pool becuase I'M GOOD. I'm strong and I know what I'm doing and  even though I'm old(er)+heavy+very unfit I can pretty much keep up with the other bloke in my lane; if he's over 30 I'll go he for tiggy. STEP AWAY FROM THE EGO, LBTEPA, JUST STEP. AWAY I hear you say, and how right you are. DAIS, NAID, my friends: old(er)+heavy+ very unfit+over-ambitious = a niggly right foot (not the bastard one, the other bastard one) and a sore shoulder which I will have to confess to murderous coach Rob becuase the last thing I need is another chronic injury.

I have gone off uber-fitness blogs a bit in the last year, for fairly obvious wallowinginselfpity reasons but today I came across one that really struck a chord. Why do I blog? Clarity is good. I like to write. I like to have somewhere to bleat (see above). I want to connect with people who think it's normal and fun and exciting to be fit and strong and do hard scary things and have adventures, and who will give me a HTFU when I deserve it as well as a you can do it and a well done. I'd be pleased if something I wrote inspired someone to wade through the I can'ts and have a crack at something scary or new. (Note to self: comment more. Install a blogroll).
Why do you blog?
More anon, zombie-hunters!

Friday, February 15, 2013


Exclusive! Paparazzi release notes from a crumpled up piece of paper at the bottom of the bin in LBTEPA's study!
-  not shifting any lard. Feeling bad about that. Ineffectual and undisciplined are two words I struggle with. It was my birthday on Sunday and I told the Spousal Unit this year will be different but I can't see how just now. Sticking with it though. What else can I do?
- not helped by new haircut that everyone really likes and I think makes me look ugly and old.
- six alcohol-and-evening snack-free days in the last 2 weeks and nothing changes on the bastard scales grumblegrumblegrumble must not give in to why do I even bother pass the chardy
- running on the treadmill at the gym is SO SATISFYING - now up to 20 minutes non-stop at 7.5km/hr (don't laugh. You have to start where you are and don't think I don't mourn and regret my lost fitness every. single. bloody. day) and clanking a few machines afterward as well. When I am dripping with sweat in my black dri-fit I AM INVINCIBLE rrrrrooooaaaaaarrrrr!
- SO EXCITED WE ARE GOING TO JAPAN IN FOUR WEEKS!!!! and getting our new camera this weekend!!!
- SO EXCITED ABOUT THE TRI ON SUNDAY!!!! my first race since mothers' day last year! except for how hard it's going to be becuase I'm so unfit and heavy and everyone will sneer at me and feel sorry for me BUT THAT'S THEIR STUFF. I'll be wearing this so they will know Who I Am.

My Plan is cruise through the swim, mass start schmass start I say, ride like I'm tied to a tree including whinge and grind my way up the bastard pinch hill right at the start, then lumber through the run. Hand off the chip to my patient team-mates and spend the rest of the day grinning. Sounds good.
jeez this will be the most boring post ever better write another one later I'll be down to four faithful readers if this gets out
(paper is ripped off unevenly at this point)

but seriously folks
One of the nicest, kindest women I have ever met, and one of the strongest athletes as well, was knocked off her bike on Tuesday and will have spinal surgery today. If you could send up some uplifting thoughts, or request whatever support you conceptualise as available from the deity/universal energy of your choice, I'd be really grateful.
more anon, ironsides!

Saturday, February 09, 2013

Don't try this at home kiddies

Firstly I must say that I have the BEST KINDEST FRIENDS IN THE WHOLE WORLD who make me all blinky with their magnificence. Operation 10-in-a-row is Officially On.
Now my five faithful readers already know that the following is Not The Way to Do Things Properly  I am sure, but clearly the boffins at the LBTEPA Insitute of Experiential Learning cannot allow a chance to do things the hard way slip by.
1. Gain 9kg
2. Be extremely enthusiastic about the fact that after a totally rotten day at work the pizza and shiraz fairy popped by.
3. Wake up stupidly early (see 2) and get so distracted mucking around with photos that you forget to go back to bed and are short 2+ hours sleep.
4. Have an Overtired Child who takes twice as much cattle prodding and gritted teeth concentration, kindness and time to get to school
5. Schedule 'go to the gym' fairly late in your massively elaborate task-and-errand-maze
6. Get halfway through (5) and get some UNBELIEVABLY GOOD AND COMPLETELY UNEXPECTED NEWS - it's official, I am officially registered as a psychologist at last I still can't believe it, I almost emailed them back because I thought it must be a mistake - and completely lose track of what you were supposed to be doing
7. Re-start errand-maze but actually wander up the street vaguely looking in windows, laughing at nothing and getting nothing done
8. Whilst in the chocolate shop on a legitimate errand (both my supervisors luurrrvvve chocolate) surrender to the enticing suggestions of the charming lady behind the counter.
9. Feel a bit sick
10. Notice it's got quite hot
11. Realise the afternoon has slipped very pleasantly by and it's TIME FOR THE SCHOOL-LITTLE ATHS-FOOD SHOPPING RUN (see 7) aaarrrggghhhh
12. Heave yourself into running gear, drop offspring off at little aths and lumber uncomfortably off along the river in the bright sunshine (see 1, 2, 3, 8and 10).
13.Note that while it is pleasing to now be able to run 3 minutes walk 1 for 24 minutes, it's pretty tragic compared to running 3 songs walk 1 for 6 hour. Oh well
14. Complete run, do food shopping all red-faced and dripping, pick up kid on time.

15. Assume legend status

DAIS, NAID kiddies.Do as I say, not as I do
More anon, conquerers!

Sunday, February 03, 2013

Everyone laughs

See this? This is what I do on Mothers' Day. 

I get up early and I go outside and I raise a sweat in the company of lots of other women in aid of an exceptionally worthy cause, and I get a medal
See these? Count them. There are NINE. 
Now as you all know - and if you don't it's not for want of my bleating about it - the Trashed Ankle is utterly smegged, refuses to fix itself despite every encouragement and now requires surgery, which has been scheduled for April 3rd. It has just occurred to me that this is only five weeks before Mothers' Day. In the absence of some muscular lunatic kind soul willing to push 80+kg of LBTEPA around a muddy, potholed river track in a wheelchair,  I WON'T GET MY TEN YEAR STREAK.

No, I've never been on the podium and never will.
No, I don't get anything special for finishing it ten years in a row. There is no special award.
Hardly anyone will know, other than my long-suffering nearest and dearest, and of course you, my five faithful readers.
No-one except me will care.
I am seriously considering delaying the surgery until the third week in May.
What's six more weeks in the big scheme of things?

 Stop laughing!