Mad Bum

It's my 'A' race on Sunday, and I'm lying in my bed, sick. Essentially a bad reaction to a flue jab yesterday, so only a mild case of flu-like symptoms but enough to have me lying here listless and sweaty all night and all day. After 3 hard months of preparation I feel a little cheated, but not yet defeated. There'll be no PB, but I intend to get to the start line at least. I've worked too hard not to make it to the start. If there is an upside, it's watching the San Francisco Giants celebrations on TV. They know how to have a good parade here, and they've done it with typical US enthusiasm. Closed the City, pretty well. They won the World Series baseball with some heroic performances topped by one "Madison Bumgarner or "Mad Bum" to all the fans. I have to admit I've converted into a baseball fan, despite thinking it was a really boring game before I came out here. The World Series was exciting to watch, going to the wire and the whole family were glued to the TV watching. Now we are on first name terms with panda Pablo, Mad Bum, and all the rest. Great fun!

Running the Embarcadero

All my running seems to be along the Embarcadero at the moment, and every Garmin log reads like what once would have been exotic and exciting but now seems to reflects a distinct lack of imagination: "30th October, 2014, Embarcadero, San Francisco. Run 6 miles 45:30" The Embarcadero is exotic, without any doubt. There's AT&T Park, home of the Giants Baseball Team who could - in just a day or so - be World Series Champions ("World" in "World Series" actually being 2 bits of white middle class America but we'll let that go for now). The statue of Willie Howard May - 4th highest scorer of home runs - is another highlight. Incidentally, I met the HIGHEST scorer of Home Runs, Barry Bonds, a few weeks ago in a restaurant. I didn't know who he was, and ignored him until the Restaurant owner let me know. Then I did know who he was, but still ignored him. Baseball meant nothing to me then. It does now; it's really exciting and is compulsory viewing for the whole family now!  There's plenty of other interest along the Embarcadero, including of course, the many many beautiful people strutting their stuff but also the Ferry Building, Pier 39, Fisherman's Wharf, Allioto's and Aquatic Park. But I ALWAYS go there to run these days. I haven't been out with the Golden gate Runclub for weeks; I haven't been down Chrissie Fields. Why? Two reasons: firstly I am training hard with cycling, swimming and core conditioning and it leaves little time for running, so I snatch a run at lunchtime or after work and Embarcadero is just there. You can't run the streets because of all the traffic lights. The other reason is my obsession with numbers. I've got target times now for 1K, 2K, 3K, 5K and 10K along the Embarcadero. I know the markers, and I can blast it to The High Dive bar for a 1K, or AT&T for the 2K, etc. and then I can get comparisons. I can then study the charts, seeing how my pace was, and how my HR responded. You know how they say your life flashes before your eyes before you die? You're supposed to be thinking of all the experiences you've had, the loves and the laughs, the highs and the lows; my final second will probably be reviewing my HR trend! I really must get a life before I die. Anyway - the Embarcadero. I regularly run past a building that usually has a few people outside. I didn't know - or care - what it was. The other night, we had some friends staying and they suggested we all went out, had a meal and a few beers. I wanted to stay fresh for a double-session run and bike the next day. The lovely Rita (AKA Jo) hit the roof! She really laid into me. "You said when we agreed about your training that you would be more flexible and go out occasionally. You've got friends over from the UK and we are going out!" I'll say this about Mrs Stock: she goes along with pretty well anything, and she doesn't complain much, but when she digs her heels in that's it. There's no point in arguing. So we went out to a place called The Epic Roast House. The owner is clearly no shrinking violet! "What shall we call the restaurant then?" "EPIC". I love it - have pride in what you do. When we arrived I was doubly excited to discover it was the place I ran past on the Embarcadero! A running landmark. No-one shared my joy, but it was a great evening. And it was Epic.

Ask - and ye shall receive!

It was all Carolyn's fault. I was having a bit of a wobble, feeling a bit sorry for myself and missing the UK and all my friends, and her smile popped into my head. I came here of my own accord, and I'm loving the job and the challenge so I'm not asking for sympathy, but it is tough here. My job, I mean. So if I have a tough day, and then I think of the stuff I'm missing back in UK - well sometimes it builds up. Anyway, I know there is no sympathy coming, so I'll just narrate.

It all started because I was thinking of UK, and I thought about my friends. I had a Strava comment from Jason which was probably the original trigger, and then I started to think about my pals. I'm really fortunate to have the three nicest people on the planet as friends. There are only three that I know of anyway, who qualify as unconditionally lovely people. (Mother Theresa may be another but we never met). Happily, I married one of them and have the other two as friends. The down side is that they, amongst all the other stuff I miss, are on the other side of the planet from me. I suppose, technically I'm on the other side of the planet from them, seeing as I was the one who moved, but the result is the same.
On Saturday morning I got a response to my simpering "I miss everything" blog from Rich, saying simply "I hear you" and sending a picture of Styal woods.
And LO! indeed HE heard. It peed down all night; I got up to do my ride/run brick session and it was wet, drizzling like a beautiful Peak District morning. Leaves were glistening, the grass sparkled with dew. It was fresh, It was lovely. The roads had a hint of danger, there was loose gravel, my socks got wet. It felt great. When I got home, "lovely person number 3" had found some cans of Boddy's and they were in the fridge. Bliss.

Jaded of San Francisco

I miss UK. Miss the rain - and the cold. I miss wet fields to run in, and mud. And wind, and puddles, and the dark. I miss the bypass run, and the trucks whistling by, dangerously close. I miss seeing my breath lit up by my headtorch, and I miss running with my pals, with the runclub. I miss running with Rich, when we could be "together" all the way and never say a word. I miss Chris with his "up and at 'em" attitude, and Steve, who never talks either but looks at you like he knows better. I miss biking with Jason, and cursing him as he makes me ride faster than my legs want to go. I miss my boys, and the excess testosterone in the house.

I miss Carolyn's smile, James' astute observations, Zoe's even, level approach to everything, Sharon with her self-analysis and constant desire to do better, go faster. I even miss Tony and his ego-busting sideswipes about "that triathlon shit".

I miss the Manchester cross-country league, and huddling in a tent waiting for the race start. I miss Kinder Downfall, and the Ashton canal.

I miss my Lake District house, and the lung-searing, leg-wasting lactate-fest that is the hill to Alistair's farm, and the subsequent sprint to get ahead of his big, frightening white bull. I miss beer. God, I miss beer - proper, hoppy, beery beer. I miss Cafe Delice, and the people-watching there, and circuits at the leisure centre.

Autumn, eh? everything's gone all misty.

Ripping me bloody legs off!

So - I've been trying very hard with my training lately, and have gone very technical, very scientific, and even more "number-driven" than usual. I am, as they say in the top cycling circles, "Training with Power". What this means is that you establish the amount of watts you can sustain at your threshold (the point before you start building up lactate). and then you train at various levels associated with that. Yes, I know this is boring, stick with it. The effort level you put in is determined by your power threshold. Mine is 225W, so working at that level is bloody hard. But 2 months ago it was only 200W, so that's a measurable 25W improvement, or 10%. Yes, I know you don't care, and I know you're bored, but stick with it.

All my cycle training since July has been on a stationary trainer hooked up to a computer. Jason would die laughing if he knew that; Rich would look at me with sympathy; Chris would simply snort in derision: the only "real world" stuff has been when I've raced. but in my virtual world, the one I'm relying on for some tangible benefits, I (along with half a dozen others) keep one eye on a video of people racing or something real, and one eye on the power zone you're achieving. Actually, I mostly just watch the power zone. Yes, I know its boring. But that's how I've managed to improve by 10%. Yes, I know you don't care.

All this has been with the High Performance Centre at my gym, where I'm paying to be treated like a pro. I haven't been out cycling with my gym team and coach. Until today. I set off at 7AM and was at the meeting point by 7:20AM. Golden Gate Bridge cafe. Now there's a meeting point! 7:30 sharp we were off, over the bridge with a trip to Stinson Beach planned. By the time we were halfway across the bridge I was burying myself just to stay with the rest. I was dropping off the wheels and only catching up with a few suicidal maneouvres passing other, slower riding groups. When we got onto California Highway 1 down to Sausalito I was off the back. "Fucking brilliant" I thought. Less than a mile in and everyone's gone; not even in sight. I started planning a different day. They waited for me in Suasalito but I said: "Listen I can't handle this pace; there's no point in me killing myself and you lot waiting for me every few miles." "No, its OK. We just got a bit excited that's all. You'll be fine." Hmm, well we'll see.

We cruised into Mill Valley for a meet up with some others who lived over that way, and then went up into Muir Woods. I was soon off the back again, hanging onto Beto's wheel as best as I could and keeping up with some ludicrous descending. We took a right turn and slogged up a hill together for a couple of miles before getting a call. We'd taken the wrong route and had to double back down the hill we had just slogged up. Halfway down I got a call from Dave. "Be careful on the descent" "Thanks," I said, "I will be once I've dealt with this phone call" I'm not sure if there are laws against riding while on a mobile, but there should be. Anyway, I managed both the call and the descent. I can remember when you just went for a ride. How quaint. Now I have to hook up my power meter, make sure my HR monitor is working. Check the cadence and speed sensors obviously, and deal with phone calls and texts. I wonder, how long will it be before voice-activated bike controls and hands-free mobile connections?

After that it was incident-free to Stinson Beach, and a lovely run along the coast with some swooping roads but sadly a mist spoiling the view. We met up and regrouped at stinson and then there was a choice: "straight" back via Mount Tamalpai (known as mount Tam) or on to Point Reyes. I'd scoffed my cheese and marmalade sandwiches so was feeling a bit more buoyant, but there was no way I was up to doing even more, so I settled for Mount Tam. Everyone else went to do do the extra 30 mile loop, but Ro said she would go with me, for the company. As we set off she put her head down and pedalled away. And away. And away. That was the last I saw of her. I turned up the Mount Tam road (it's referred to as Tam by every cyclist I've met here) not aware of what was ahead of me. I'd heard something vague involving "6 miles" or something but hadn't really been listening. I passed a guy who was going pretty slowly and fiddling with water bottles, but took no clues from it as I attacked the hill. Some time later, I was still attacking the hill, frequently getting up out of the saddle to keep the pace going and generally maintaining good momentum. I was pretty pleased with myself for keeping the work rate up like this. I caught sight of something out of the corner of my eye, but carried on, working hard and doing, I thought, fairly well. Then I became aware of hard breathing behind me. It couldn't be the slow guy I'd passed surely? I hadn't had a drink since setting off up the hill and I remembered him chugging away at his water bottle down at the bottom. I wished I had done that. It's not easy to drink when you're slogging up a hill, and I was regretting not hydrating well enough to this point. Sure enough, it was slow guy and he cheerfully pulled alongside. "Little stinger, this one!" I said, as brightly as I could manage. "Yes" he said, "only another 3 miles" " Thanks!" But we chatted away and before I knew it we had reached the top, and I told him I wanted to keep as good a pace as possible so, thanks for the company and see you later! I pushed hard to clear a gap, which I did, but then had to slow up and rehydrate. It was really hot and I was beginning to suffer. The cheese and marmalade sandwiches were also fully used up with the effort. I pushed on, and managed to gap him reasonably well, and forgot about him. Then I saw a view that I just couldn't resist,

and I had to stop to take a photo, as I got back on the bike, I saw slow guy but I was away. Then I had to take another photo, looking down at the clouds,

and he swooped past me on a downhill section. "Pretty good, hey?" He shouted, and I remounted and shot off in pursuit. I gained a little but not much, but the ride down was fantastic. A car in front went faster and faster as I chased it, until his wheels were squealing. I was a little bit concerned about popping a tyre,as the rims heated up with the braking, but it was great fun, and I arrived down in Mill Valley breathless and excited. The rest of the day was spent trundling back to San Francisco, feeling very tired but quite pleased with myself. I hadn't held onto the team but maybe, in a few weeks....

Not good enough. Santa Cruz Triathlon

a bit of a confession. While this was only a C race for me, and my first in 14 months, I wanted a better result than this: I was actually hoping for a top 3 in my age group, and a sub 2:30 time. I actually got:

Overall time: 2:40. Swim 28:51; bike 1:20; run 46:51

I've been training hard recently, and smart. I've taken swim lessons and was able to keep with the group for the first time ever, which was good. But I let myself down on the bike. I crashed coming out of T1, trying to go through a gap that was too small, but I don't think that had too much of an effect. I fell back into my old ways of saving something for the run. Coach Perry used to give me so much stick for that. "Nail the bike!" Was his mantra. "I don't care if you can't run when you get off the bike, don't leave anything out there on the bike course. Just nail it!" And I learned. I used to go so hard on the bike, but then was able to get off and put in a decent run. The bike effort didn't detract from the run at all I don't think. But today, I didn't give it everything on the bike, and then as it turned out, I didn't have much on the run anyway. 

So I'm disappointed, but even more determined to get it right for Marin triathlon in November.