Walking into the pool this morning Ais left me in no doubt that the next four weeks are going to be tough. She’s happy with where my run is but still feels that the swim and bike are the weak(er) links. Having one weak link isn’t necessarily a disaster but two would be a problem.
I’ve been given my orders.
1. No more missed swims. Minimum of three times a week in the water.
2. After that every spare minute for the next four weeks is to be spent on the bike. Which today as we are having something of a three day Indian summer in Dublin sounds like all of my birthdays have come at once. If the weathers nasty for a five hour ride though I might not be as excited.
Three years ago after back surgery I spent two months flat on my back unable to swim, bike, run or even walk very far. It taught me that even a hard, wet or cold day on the bike is better than that experience.
Even aside from being physically able to train I always feel very lucky at just how supportive Aisling is of my Ironman stuff. I talk to lots of people who have to quit the sport because it causes too much friction at home, or because they work or commute insane hours, or they’ve just had a baby and training suddenly drops from being one of the most important parts of their day to being something that they are lucky to do twice a week.
The next time I complain about how hard it is to train in Ireland feel free to give me a metaphorical (or an actual one if you live locally) kick in the arse.
For anyone who’s feeling sorry for themselves that they got wet or cold on their last bike ride.
Suck it up.
You should instead feel a little bit epic that you were one of the hard ones who suffered through it.
I’m sure that this will garner me all sorts of rants from those who don’t agree but fuck it. I’ve said it.
#rulenumber5
Anyway let’s get on with how the week went. Read More

As we hit the last ramp I came off John’s wheel like I’d been shot out of a cannon.
I was out of the saddle.
Full gas.
Dropping major watt bombs all over the road.
Feeling like a legend in my own underpants.
I was sure I had it this time.
He wasn’t going to come around me with this attack.
Then out of the corner of my eye I could see him come by me and instead of inching up alongside he shot past and immediately opened a bike length.
It seems John had the bigger watt bombs and he was busily dropping them all over the joint.
I pushed harder and stabilised the gap. I still had the legs to hammer all the way to the top but not quite enough to close him down.
I held him at just over a bike length all the way to the top but for the second time in two years John took the final and all important climb to the top of Howth head. The one that everyone remembers.
Next year I’m just gonna push him off the damn bike into the bushes at the foot of the climb.

That little showdown was on Sunday. I’d had four days and almost 700km on the bike since Thursday. I’d also gotten a couple of swims and a run done. It made up the biggest training block I’ve done in a long time and I was pretty happy with how I was handling it.
Happy with all except the fact that John had managed to scalp me at the top of every climb bar one and if I’m honest that was only because I had a bit of a head start on him.
I did however take the only flat sprint of the week, but that is little consolation for someone who considers themselves a climber first and a sprinter not at all.
I am consoling myself with the thought that it was a really solid block of training and despite the fact that Friday was a 3k swim, 162k bike and a 6k run I felt none the worse for wear on Saturday or Sunday which had a combined 330k of riding.

Anyway that’s enough about that. Read on for all the details Read More