So the Outlaw entered and a PT session arranged for last Wednesday with Iain my PT. I rang him beforehand asking if I needed my trainers or a notebook. The answer is unprintable. When I got there before he could start I asked if he was going to shout.
“Lynne, you’ve entered. The deed is done. There’s nothing we can do about it and me shouting won’t make it any better.”
I think I’d preferred to be bawled out.
He went on to verbalise everything that had been spinning in my head for the previous 48 hours. It would take time, lots of time. It would take commitment and a cast “iron” will. 9 months to Ironman is possible. 9 months to Ironman from someone who could barely swim, was scared of falling off her bike and could just about run 5k is possible but the odds are definitely not in my favour.
I must remember that all the people who say “Go Lynne go!” won’t be getting up with me at stupid o’clock to run in freezing, raining, howling gale conditions. They won’t have to sort their family, do a full day’s work and then have to go out again and freeze their bits off for 2 hours on the bike.
I left under no illusion that the next 9 months will be the toughest of my life but remembering the euphoria a felt when I completed my first triathlon and multiplying it a 1000 fold would make it worth it. Instructions were to map out a schedule of what time was available and he would fill in the blanks and in the meantime do what I could.
Thursday I ran, not far but a minute quicker than the previous week. Had Now That’s What I Call Running on shuffle on my phone. Started with Maniac, somewhere along the middle had Simply The Best and came home to The Rocky Theme.
Friday I attacked the bike at the gym and did a mind numbingly boring 40 minutes.
Saturday I’d scheduled a long run but I forgot to reset my alarm and got up too late. Morgan has a swimming lesson at 9 so I need to be back. I wasn’t too concerned as I promised I’d do it later in the day. Then the day takes over. My Mum has early stages of Alzheimer’s. She was having a bad day so we ended up taking her to Mold Food Festival. We got back home at 7 so the run didn’t happen.
Sunday, long bike. Couldn’t find my shoes. 20 minutes later found them behind the bike. Was ready to go out of the door and Mark pointed out my tyres were flat. Needless to say I didn’t make it.
Monday, torrential rain so gym bike agan. This time I had a secret weapon, Don Fink’s going Long as recommended by Dr Dre. The time went really quickly and I actually enjoyed myself. I even ran for 10 minutes on the treadmill (I detest treadmills with a passion!) When I got home from work it was still raining and a nice cozy curled up on the sofa with Nigella was very appealing however, I forced myself out of the door and had an absolutely glorious hour of swimming with a lane to myself.
Tuesday was all set to run. Began to feel queasy and then was violently sick.
Yesterday another gym bike session with Don Fink.
This morning I ran. Outside. Absolutely loved it. Really listened to the lyrics of DJ Fresh’s “Louder”
We're gonna get stronger
We're gonna feel better
You can't tame this energy inside
I gotta reach higher
I wanna burn like a fire
Gotta move faster
You can't tame this energy inside
Very important lessons this week.
Perfect Planning and Preparation Prevents Pi55 poor performance. I will always check my kit the night before.
Iain’s schedule begins on Monday 1st October, how tidy is that? Picked up an academic week to a view diary too for the princely sum of 60p.
Coached swim session tomorrow – can’t wait.
Megga thanks for all your good wishes and encouragement.
The Postscript
4 years ago
