1lb loss; 35.5lb total; 13.5lb in 2014
I’ve talked a lot about Piri, the race bike, in the last few weeks. I bought her in 2008 just before the Windsor Triathlon. She was a flighty, excitable thing and a massive step up from the steel frame Pearson I had ridden prior. I was so excited to ride her and see what she (and I) could do at Windsor that year.
Unfortunately for me, it had been a very wet spring and the river on race day was flowing at about 1m/sec.
That’s bloody fast. Especially if you’re not very good at swimming!
After struggling my way up for 900m up river, I tried to cross over to swim round the buoy and the turn around for home. I tried to get across the back of the buoy for about 5 minutes until I realised I was never going to get there. It was like swimming in an endless pool. In the end I headed back to the bank to rethink my plan.
Plan B was to walk up river until I thought I was far enough up then aim to swim across in a straight line and hope I made it around. It worked in a fashion but instead of going round I went under the buoy. It was a tad worrying. Especially as every time I tried to clamber out from underneath it (this thing was huge, easily 6 feet square) a new wave of swimmers would come past and dunk me under again.
I’m sure I’d only been there for about 30 seconds but it felt like forever. I was sobbing and hysterical and convinced I was on the verge of death when it occurred to me that playing dead would be the answer. I relaxed as much as possible and then, pushed along by the current, floated out from under the buoy and downstream. It was all I could do to stop freaking out, so I lay back and permitted the current to deliver me to the swim finish where they dragged me out, exhausted and bedraggled and not really in a position to do much else.
I carried on of course, but Piri never really got the maiden voyage she deserved and I felt sad for that.
She was named after ‘Piriformis’, the Greek God of pain in the arse. I jest, obviously, the piriformis is a muscle attached to the pelvis and hip. And I named her after it, because it was that, which had been causing me so many problems at the time of me acquiring her.
It’s ironic then, that the resurgence of this old injury has come back to plague me now, when I finally thought I could give her the ride she deserves.
The good news is it’s not terminal and I know how to manage it. The chiropractor, osteopath, physiotherapist, massage therapist and personal trainer have all confirmed it’s not that bad and it shouldn’t stop me doing the event.
Huge thanks to Clare, Helen, Jo, Annette and Peter for putting me and my head back together this week. The show will go on.
So, the van is packed, the training is done, dinner is cooking on the stove and a wine glass glistens with the rivulets of a crisp white wine, waiting to be drunk. There is nothing else I can do now except relax and enjoy some quality time with Alan, away from the shop and work.
The race is one week from today and hopefully, this time next week, I’ll be off the bike with just a marathon to go until I can call myself an Ironman.
Thank you to each and every one of you who have supported us in this quest. See you on the other side.
I am raising money for Princess Alice Hospice. Thank you so much to everyone who has made a donation. If you would like to, you can view my just giving page here.