08 March 2010 (Fitness)

Words: Mike Sheridan

It’s safe to say that I’ve pretty much passed the point of no return. Entertainment.ie have kindly paid my inordinate registration fee for the Ironman 70.3, and I’ve booked flights for myself and my brothers to Germany in August. With nearly five and a half months to go, I’m shitting myself. The main issue is still, of course, the swim; I’ve been putting in too many hours on the road and the treadmill, and not enough in the pool. Those 1.2 miles of open water swimming might as well be a skinny dip in volcanic ash at the moment. 

I’ve hired Dave Cunningham from One Escape for private lessons, and seem to make certain gains when under strict tutorial; but finding expansion on those gains whilst training alone are proving difficult to obtain. The pool at One Escape, like any other pool, is busiest in the evening time. It’s also spilt into sections for stronger swimmers, on the left, while there’s what I like to call “the frolic lane” on the right. Generally, the frolic lane is where I like to do most of my learning, and I don’t feel as stupid stopping in the middle of a length having swallowed a litre of water because I still can’t get my breathing right. Being the evening time is the most suitable for me, like so many others to use the pool, this is a problem. Also, it’s genuinely staggering how little overall fitness matters in swimming until you get your technique right. Dave has pointed out on numerous occasions that all the miles I put in, and all the marathons mean nothing when it comes to just drilling yourself into a habit of stroke and breath in the pool. Running and cycling is controlled breathing, but you can still get your head down and get into it – you don’t really need to learn anything other than stretching beforehand. Swimming is essentially multitasking, and when a hefty looking fiftysomething glides past you in the pool, it’s damn well depressing. 

Elsewhere, my gorgeous new Triathlon bike, who I’ve named Jessica put in a weekend of 105 kilometres when first purchased, but those distances have trailed off in the past few weeks. The only training that has been consistent has been that of the running, and as Dave pointed out, I already know how to do that pretty well. About 75% of my running now comes from the treadmill, as is the norm when the weather is this Baltic. I have been mixing up the road runs as well, but rarely over 10 or 11 miles; where as when I was training for the marathon, they wouldn’t have even been considered a medium run.

 I’m simply not putting enough hours into the right areas, and will just have to take my finger out, and get up earlier and train harder. I haven’t drank alcohol since before Christmas, which isn’t really a big deal for me as I’m crap at drinking. I thought it a noble sacrifice that meant I could then add an extra days training - lately my hardcore brick sessions, on the Sunday. If you’re an extremely social person and can party hard on a couple of diet cokes and a packet of chewits then I salute you; because being stone cold sober around so many drunk folk tests my patience now on a weekly basis. The solution? I’m going out next weekend to get pissed for the first time in months, and am hoping the invariable hangover will put me off booze for another three months so I can train that bit harder. At least I’ve given up chocolate for lent. I couldn’t quite stretch to curry.

 

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