Da-da-da dah!
Da-da-da-da dah!
It's The Final Countdown.
I must say while the Walrus has been force feeding baked potatoes for carbohydrate loading, I've eaten quite a few eggs.
Not for any science in sport reasons more because there's a helluva lot of eggs at the moment.
Coo coo kachoo ka coo coo kachoo. ...
30th May. Ironman.
My secret weapon arrives for The Sunday Showdown from ebay in a padded envelope, an article that looks remarkably like an edwardian bathing suit, bearing the logo IRONMAN.
This device should pay a handsome dividend of up to a saving of one whole minute in Transition 1 by dint of emergence from the water straight on to one's bike without recourse to additional garmentry.
"What d'you think?" I ask, modelling in front of Isabelle, who is reclined in front of 'The One Show.'
"I can see your bits, it's not meant to point that way surely? You can't go about like that!"
"The cold water will cause a certain amount of shrinkage." I reply.
More Rubberboy than Ironman.
This device should pay a handsome dividend of up to a saving of one whole minute in Transition 1 by dint of emergence from the water straight on to one's bike without recourse to additional garmentry.
"What d'you think?" I ask, modelling in front of Isabelle, who is reclined in front of 'The One Show.'
"I can see your bits, it's not meant to point that way surely? You can't go about like that!"
"The cold water will cause a certain amount of shrinkage." I reply.
More Rubberboy than Ironman.
27th May. Showdown Mental Prep.
"You've no pride" admonishes Isabelle as we drive into the town, referring to the results of my recent attempt at shaving but perhaps implying a more general character trait.
"You look like Hitler with those hairs you've left under your nose."
It could be true.
Coincidentally I could do with taking a leaf out of Hitler's book.
I need all the puffing up I can get for the coming showdown on Sunday, a bit of Egotism could do me no harm.
Sporting performance is all about mental attitude, an exaggerated estimate of my own abilities allied with a soupcon of arrogant assumption of superiority ought to do it.
The Walrus will be defeated and then - we invade Poland!
"You look like Hitler with those hairs you've left under your nose."
It could be true.
Coincidentally I could do with taking a leaf out of Hitler's book.
I need all the puffing up I can get for the coming showdown on Sunday, a bit of Egotism could do me no harm.
Sporting performance is all about mental attitude, an exaggerated estimate of my own abilities allied with a soupcon of arrogant assumption of superiority ought to do it.
The Walrus will be defeated and then - we invade Poland!
26th May. "It's Not Really A Race"
Despite running up mountains with only a bag of fruit to go on as part of a last ditch training programme, the 'Walrus' claims it's "Not really a race."
Well it's an event,. a competition with ankle mounted timing chips, the times measured to the nearest second and the results published on the internet.
Barring some remarkable draw, one has to be faster than the other surely?
There's probably nothing that can be done physically now, all that remains is the mental discipline, the psyching up to Win?
This New Agey "Not really a race" thing is all part of the Walrus's strategy.
Och it's not really a race at all! I'll just take it easy, in fact if I did win I'd have only won because he let me win, so to be polite I'll just let him win after all that effort losing the weight, it's only fair.
Well it's an event,. a competition with ankle mounted timing chips, the times measured to the nearest second and the results published on the internet.
Barring some remarkable draw, one has to be faster than the other surely?
There's probably nothing that can be done physically now, all that remains is the mental discipline, the psyching up to Win?
This New Agey "Not really a race" thing is all part of the Walrus's strategy.
Och it's not really a race at all! I'll just take it easy, in fact if I did win I'd have only won because he let me win, so to be polite I'll just let him win after all that effort losing the weight, it's only fair.
24th May. Shame About The Face.
There's not much in the way of Eye Candy in our tour group not withstanding Isabelle and the rep who Isabelle says "Has really no idea when it comes to foundation -poor girl."
The rep is "Still waiting for Mr Right." apparently.
Logically some long sighted gent who refuses to wear reading glasses out of vanity would answer quite well.
Anyway after another boat trip with strict instructions to be back on the bus no later than a quarter to four, we are all back on the bus.
The rep walks up and down the bus in her patent high heel boots doing a head count but after several attempts concludes that two people are missing.
"It's never happened to me before!" she admits with her perfect diction. "Does anyone know who it is?"
Turns out the face lift woman and her husband are unaccounted for.
The minutes go by with the bus engine continuosly running.
Eventually a phone rings, They are at the local hospital!
Dear oh dear.
"Maybe her face fell off." suggests Isabelle.
The rep is "Still waiting for Mr Right." apparently.
Logically some long sighted gent who refuses to wear reading glasses out of vanity would answer quite well.
Anyway after another boat trip with strict instructions to be back on the bus no later than a quarter to four, we are all back on the bus.
The rep walks up and down the bus in her patent high heel boots doing a head count but after several attempts concludes that two people are missing.
"It's never happened to me before!" she admits with her perfect diction. "Does anyone know who it is?"
Turns out the face lift woman and her husband are unaccounted for.
The minutes go by with the bus engine continuosly running.
Eventually a phone rings, They are at the local hospital!
Dear oh dear.
"Maybe her face fell off." suggests Isabelle.
22nd May. Moto Guzzi.
We take a convoluted trip via boat and train to visit the Moto Guzzi factory.
It seems unlikely that there could be a factory making motorbikes here in such an area of scenic grandeur right at the foot of some fairly impressive mountains and next to Lake Como.
I keep an eye out as the train pulls into the supposed town, what I'm looking for is a large modern factory covering a couple of square miles.
From the platform you can see a red sign emblazoned Moto Guzzi, "That can't be it right in the town centre it's too small."
We walk around a bit and have an argument, "Well, that has to be the factory then."
It seems unlikely that there could be a factory making motorbikes here in such an area of scenic grandeur right at the foot of some fairly impressive mountains and next to Lake Como.
I keep an eye out as the train pulls into the supposed town, what I'm looking for is a large modern factory covering a couple of square miles.
From the platform you can see a red sign emblazoned Moto Guzzi, "That can't be it right in the town centre it's too small."
We walk around a bit and have an argument, "Well, that has to be the factory then."
20th May. The Tolkien Express.
We are marshalled on the platform awaiting Europes highest non rack railway train along with the face lift woman and sundry trolls, smurffs, hobbits, dwarves, and wombles, in fact a broad cross section of the British retired classes.
The Little People chatter excitedly as the train wheels screech steel on steel with every twist of the ever climbing railway line, a monument to Swiss engineering or insanity.
They all seem happy enough snapping away at the increasingly Alpine landscape through the open windows.
Happy enough until the party is disgorged at some considerable elevation onto another platform covered in fresh snow which is now turning slushy.
"OOOH! I don't mind looking at it but not walking on it!" cries an ageing Hobbit woman, probably fearing another hip replacement.
The Little People chatter excitedly as the train wheels screech steel on steel with every twist of the ever climbing railway line, a monument to Swiss engineering or insanity.
They all seem happy enough snapping away at the increasingly Alpine landscape through the open windows.
Happy enough until the party is disgorged at some considerable elevation onto another platform covered in fresh snow which is now turning slushy.
"OOOH! I don't mind looking at it but not walking on it!" cries an ageing Hobbit woman, probably fearing another hip replacement.
18th May. On Ageing.
"That woman coming towards us has definitely had a face lift." says Isabelle of one of the other members of the tour group, this with a mix of disdain and pity, "You can see the scars behind her ears."
A woman can employ any amount of products in the life long battle against skin ageing but it seems that 'going under the knife' signals a note of desperation to other women.
Now the world doesn't really know whether she has the face she deserved or not, perhaps it's worse?
Either way there's no going back now.
A woman can employ any amount of products in the life long battle against skin ageing but it seems that 'going under the knife' signals a note of desperation to other women.
Now the world doesn't really know whether she has the face she deserved or not, perhaps it's worse?
Either way there's no going back now.
17th May. How We Create A Narrative.
"They seem to be all Italians in here, locals," I say as we walk from the pissing rain into the first small restaurant down from the hotel.
The fact is the human brain is nothing more than an explanation machine and creating explanations, jumping to conclusions, is the default setting.
After half an hour with a ham and mushroom pizza it transpires that the "Italians" turn out to be a large family group of Spanish staying at the Grand Hotel down the road, an Australian couple, and the rest are English, in fact the only Italians are behind the bar.
You just can't stop it can you? "making sense" of everything, sense which in reality is nearly always nonsense.
The fact is the human brain is nothing more than an explanation machine and creating explanations, jumping to conclusions, is the default setting.
After half an hour with a ham and mushroom pizza it transpires that the "Italians" turn out to be a large family group of Spanish staying at the Grand Hotel down the road, an Australian couple, and the rest are English, in fact the only Italians are behind the bar.
You just can't stop it can you? "making sense" of everything, sense which in reality is nearly always nonsense.
16th May. Showdown Latest
The Walrus gave me a few pointers on swimming that he'd gleaned from some 'professional' coach at Gleneagles, otherwise it's all going to be a one horse race.
The fact is I suffer from Natural Weakness which manifests after 5 lengths in a small pool at what is deemed the right sort of pace.
However tomorrow Isabelle has pre-arranged a week in Italy for her 40th, where coincidentally the hotel is rumoured to have a pool.
"Try to get an hour in every day" says the 'W'.
To be honest it won't be easy fitting it in with all the eating I'll have to be be doing,
Still I should be alright for carbohydrate loading/bloating given the main constituents of the Italian diet.
The fact is I suffer from Natural Weakness which manifests after 5 lengths in a small pool at what is deemed the right sort of pace.
However tomorrow Isabelle has pre-arranged a week in Italy for her 40th, where coincidentally the hotel is rumoured to have a pool.
"Try to get an hour in every day" says the 'W'.
To be honest it won't be easy fitting it in with all the eating I'll have to be be doing,
Still I should be alright for carbohydrate loading/bloating given the main constituents of the Italian diet.
14th May. Born To Be Tired.
"I don't understand it, it must be a mental thing, there's nothing wrong with your quads" queries the Walrus waiting at the side of the road, as I gratefully freewheel to a halt feeling more or less knackered.
This cycle pacing idea worked for about 10 kilometres, then a slight headwind and I soon lost sight of the walrus's back wheel altogether.
I'm reminded of a particular admonishment about my Fluid Mechanics course work during the college years from Mr Fiddler - "Your usual minimum effort."
Another one from J.B. Main - "Some of you lads just seem to have come in here to get out of the rain!"
Somehow I need to metaphorically work out what's going to be in the 'exam' this year then write some Dynamics formulas on jam pot labels and stick them on the back of my Commodore calculator.
This cycle pacing idea worked for about 10 kilometres, then a slight headwind and I soon lost sight of the walrus's back wheel altogether.
I'm reminded of a particular admonishment about my Fluid Mechanics course work during the college years from Mr Fiddler - "Your usual minimum effort."
Another one from J.B. Main - "Some of you lads just seem to have come in here to get out of the rain!"
Somehow I need to metaphorically work out what's going to be in the 'exam' this year then write some Dynamics formulas on jam pot labels and stick them on the back of my Commodore calculator.
12th May. Another Case of Bad Planning.
With David's words "I wouldn't ride any faster than walking pace if I was you" still ringing in one ear I set off from the Loch Aorta Hotel.
It was only about seventy miles to one of the two bike shops in the West Highlands, Charlie would be following at a discreet distance to clear up any resultant mess if or when the back tyre exploded.
It must have been the additional weight of Isabelle and her face creams combined with the raw power of the vee-twin that had worn the until this morning still legal rear tyre through to the canvas in a single afternoon.
In the other ear the words "We shut at twelve on a Saturday" seemed to be in clear opposition.
The destination drew closer, the tyre wore thinner, the deadline fell nearer, the speed crept up, the nerves became more racked...
Then the "Welcome to Oban" sign came into view.
"It'll be a hundred and fifty pounds fitted."
Forget it, I think I'm going to shop around a bit.
It was only about seventy miles to one of the two bike shops in the West Highlands, Charlie would be following at a discreet distance to clear up any resultant mess if or when the back tyre exploded.
It must have been the additional weight of Isabelle and her face creams combined with the raw power of the vee-twin that had worn the until this morning still legal rear tyre through to the canvas in a single afternoon.
In the other ear the words "We shut at twelve on a Saturday" seemed to be in clear opposition.
The destination drew closer, the tyre wore thinner, the deadline fell nearer, the speed crept up, the nerves became more racked...
Then the "Welcome to Oban" sign came into view.
"It'll be a hundred and fifty pounds fitted."
Forget it, I think I'm going to shop around a bit.
8th May. F.E.M.C.C. Mystery Tour.
A total of 7, 8 or 9 are signed up for tomorrows departure on this mystery two centre holiday, including Isabelle, a change in the lads weekend format.
This change is unlikely to pass unnoticed unless there has been severe macular degeneration since last year.
Isabelle normally wears contacts and is therefore eligible.
Due to a limited carrying capacity, I imagine the biggest headache will be rationalising day and night skin care products down to a manageable rucksack size.
This change is unlikely to pass unnoticed unless there has been severe macular degeneration since last year.
Isabelle normally wears contacts and is therefore eligible.
Due to a limited carrying capacity, I imagine the biggest headache will be rationalising day and night skin care products down to a manageable rucksack size.
4th May. Glasgow Triathlon.
A disappointing 1hr 29mins after being successfully nobbled by the Walrus on the pretext of a shared swimming and running training exercise yesterday.
It's widely held that the day prior to an event should be one of rest.
Och! but the cycling - just rubbish, after passing everyone in my swimming lane the effort was wasted on the never ending 4 lap bike course.
The 'Showdown' result is going to be bike dependent which comes down to just how massively overdeveloped ones quadriceps are.
Underdeveloped in my case,
The legs of the Walrus have had years of supporting the equivalent of twice my body mass.
I have some arduous weight training ahead.
It's widely held that the day prior to an event should be one of rest.
Och! but the cycling - just rubbish, after passing everyone in my swimming lane the effort was wasted on the never ending 4 lap bike course.
The 'Showdown' result is going to be bike dependent which comes down to just how massively overdeveloped ones quadriceps are.
Underdeveloped in my case,
The legs of the Walrus have had years of supporting the equivalent of twice my body mass.
I have some arduous weight training ahead.
2nd May. MOT.
The Lord Provost will be there along with the local press, a photographer from The Courier, family and friends, I don't know if my brother will make it up but his thoughts will be with me I'm sure.
The presentation may be televised on Reporting Scotland, naturally they'll want to interview the garage proprietor. Jonathan or David Dimbleby may want a few words, then the inevitable round of daytime chat shows will follow, Richard & Judy, The One show...
The whole drama may be given the Hollywood treatment, once the screen play has been written, it'll be called THE TEST, a typical homily of one mans triumph over adversity, inner sill corrosion siezed handbrake and a front disc imbalance, either Tom Hanks or Morgan Freeman.
The presentation may be televised on Reporting Scotland, naturally they'll want to interview the garage proprietor. Jonathan or David Dimbleby may want a few words, then the inevitable round of daytime chat shows will follow, Richard & Judy, The One show...
The whole drama may be given the Hollywood treatment, once the screen play has been written, it'll be called THE TEST, a typical homily of one mans triumph over adversity, inner sill corrosion siezed handbrake and a front disc imbalance, either Tom Hanks or Morgan Freeman.
1st May. The Walrus Is Looking Dangerous.
Way back then it all seemed a bit of a joke, half man half Fruit Allsorts, nothing more strenuous than searching for the DVD remote and a life threatening BMI.
I didn't even need to train as it wouldn't really be a race because he'd have to stop for a high calorie snack during transition 2 before walking round the running section, that's if he'd got out bed in time for the registration.
Now the Walrus is breathing down my neck, no longer the underdog, the daily trips to the gym are paying dividends and he doesn't even need to eat, fuelled by an aggregate of spicy chicken wings and 'All You Can Eat' Buffets.
My results from this sunday will be scrutinised for obvious weakness, which is, everything.
I didn't even need to train as it wouldn't really be a race because he'd have to stop for a high calorie snack during transition 2 before walking round the running section, that's if he'd got out bed in time for the registration.
Now the Walrus is breathing down my neck, no longer the underdog, the daily trips to the gym are paying dividends and he doesn't even need to eat, fuelled by an aggregate of spicy chicken wings and 'All You Can Eat' Buffets.
My results from this sunday will be scrutinised for obvious weakness, which is, everything.
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