Ironman UK got cancelled, it was bound to happen I suppose.
I think Dave has already outlined what the plan is (assuming that all our entries are deferred), that we just do it next year with a couple of extra Rusties taking part. As always, in the grand scheme of things the cancelling of a race mainly designed for those suffering only from a mid-life crisis is trivial. But it’s my blog so;
I’m not best pleased for number of reasons;
If I could just have done it this year it would have got it out of the way. If I was to finish it (or even make a fair attempt) then it would be a real achievement for a fat lad who has obviously not trained enough. By next year all my excuses are (should be) redundant.
Perhaps this is as good as it gets- It’s been a mild winter so with that and being locked down in Devon I’ve done more cycling than ever, I’m eating (being feed) sensibly in a crisp free environment. In a year’s time; after an icy winter, a return to full time employment and a special offer on Pringles I could be in even worse shape. Something that a spin class a week and swimming in the slow lane with the old folks in the morning at Westcroft isn’t going to sort out.
I have just perfected being able to run slow enough to do the marathon at the end. Five hours plus, very steady- lovely. Unfortunately, the next race on my calendar is the Ballbuster when I’ll have to try run 16 miles at 3 hour pace.
I’m not sure I can face another year of training. The lack of variation in my training is starting to get to me, not enough to get the ‘Pilates for Men’ DVD out of its box but enough to add the hour I spent rollering my Misses’ lawn to my training diary (and that’s not a euphemism as should be clear from the use of the word ‘hour’). Does it sound better or worse if I say I was wearing lycra at the time?
We’ll all be a year older (I think Dave might even move up to the ‘coffin dodgers’ age group) and bearing in mind that I was a super veteran when I started triathlon, I must be up to super doper veteran next year. Archeologists study bones as old as mine. Even if I manage to stay injury free there is no guarantee that I’ll be able to put my socks on in transition let alone race as decay takes hold.
I will be out of excuses to be this fat and unfit. One whole year to train- I should be able to leap tall buildings in a single bound not just wander round a little ironman thingy. Is it just me who values that element of surprise when someone who’s clearly not athletic manages to finish?
It’s not just me, or the other Rusties that this cancellation effects, this has a potentially detrimental impact on a number of people;
Firstly, the rather wonderful Emma who has to open up her email with the constant dread of another pile of nonsense emailed from me- very quickly followed by another message saying, ‘Don’t use the copy I’ve just sent. Spotted a spelling mistake please use this one’. She then has to rework it into something presentable knowing that there is a little eager beaver waiting to see his efforts appear on the website.
And you, dear reader, think about it, you would have had to wade through probably just one more training blog and then a race report which let’s face it would be basically- got up early, portaloo anecdote, bit of swimming, bit of cycling, oh wasn’t it hilly, (hopefully I make the run, or it’s whatever inventive excuse I can make up), oh wasn’t’ it hell, but yippee, blah blah, and if I’m feeling really generous I might spend a line or two saying how the other Rusties did. Done and dusted.
Now you’ve got another year of this, I’m running out of ways of making plodding round a field and riding up and down a road even remotely interesting now, can you imagine how tedious it’s going to be in a few months time. You’ve got another year of this nonsense to be polite about when you see my little eager face desperate for praise.
I’ve made a mosaic of a lizard and had a bag of fish and chips.
(The chips are something I promised myself, only after the Ironman and the mosaic is something I promised my Missus some years ago, Ho Hum.)