26th July. Station To Station- Your First Ultra Marathon.

This "Event" was pretty much a homage to one of Pete's Dad's hillwalking buddies, Peter Binnie, who apparently conceived of the idea in the 70's.

The gist was to catch the 8.04 train to Inverness alighting at Aviemore then simply make ones way on foot through the Lairig Ghru and Glen Tilt to Blair Atholl, a distance of 40 miles, in time to get the last train back to Perth 

Of course there are no shops or mobile phone masts in the Cairngorms I took  proactive steps by buying a pork pie rich in trans fats, whilst passing the local petrol station 

Things went well enough until about the 35 mile mark.

The pace then slowed to something less than Buster Martin (103) the oldest man to run the London Marathon.

To be honest part of the reason had been to experience the altered state of consciousness, part and parcel of going beyond one's limits.

I felt a bit sore in the lower limb area and a bit sick, despite putting all available clothes on I still felt cold.

Finally emerging at the back of Blair castle there were tourists taking an evening stroll clad only in tee shirts? It must be me then.

Anyway I could hear a train coming so I had to run like the world's oldest runner so I didn't have to wait another hour for the next one and risk hypothermia.

This event had been billed as a doubler with The Otter, but with all that romance business going on you can't rely on anything, and now I was one up in the Ultra stakes. 

Back on the train and now with a signal, I relayed the news of this 12 hour triumph of endurance.

Although we shall see about knee cartilage later (in life).

23rd July. Strangely At Home In Ellerton Gravel Pit.

It came as some surprise to find just about everyone in the village of Fartington-On-Tees was a Triathlete. 

This was a mere coincidence, you understand, as my reason for traveling to this sparsely populated and little visited area of the north of England was connected with chimneys and money.

The farmer that owned the gravel pit sat with his wife in a Toyota Hilux as a cool breeze whipped across the waters greying in the evening light.

He rolled down the window to accept a £1 from each daft person.

"I bet they think we're all mental" I suggest.

Of course in a borrowed wetsuit, swimming was almost pleasant. 

I'll probably wonder where I was, who I was, or whether I just dreamt this, in a couple of years, I mused.

Strange to feel at home in a place you've never even been?

The North of England follows a parochial binary system similar to the Scottish/English mindset - ie (Non-Wanker/Wanker).

Here the distinction is North/South.

Due to speech I can be pigeon-holed as broadly somewhere from the North of England rather than South. A change from the usual "You're not from these parts are you?" despite 38 years north of the border.

  

 

20th July. Why Am I So Shit At Triathlon?

A pro-active approach to this question could provide a way forward rather than the more all encompassing answer - "Because you're shit at everything else."

Any coach worth his salt would take time to review both strengths and weaknesses.

Strengths:

1.  I'm not fat.

2. Err.... that's it.

Weaknesses:

Uncountable - Natural and Unnatural.

Conclusion:

Sign up for Lanzarote 2010 and hope for a thrombosis somewhere amongst the lava fields.

19th July. Loch Ore Drubbing.

The former mine workings played host to the scottish sprint championship with a running start into the balmy 18 degrees C. shallows.

Straightaway a mouthful of the waters, rich in heavy metals, set in motion a slight panic, how the hell did I manage to swim that Ironman thing? By rights this should be a doddle.

The fact is I stood every chance of success as The Otter was nursing a hangover and had previously  consumed about 2 kilos of chocolate whilst under the influence.

"I feel so sick."

"Excellent!"

Only a minute in it at transition 1. and then... and then...?

120th ?

Jeez...

 

17th July. Choose Your Delusion - The Otter Looses The Plot.

"I'm happy because I'm in love and I want children."

"Now that's the biggest delusion of them all."

"I've decided I don't want to live my life and end up regretting things I didn't do."

"Och that's just the genes talking."

"Well I've realized that that's the only reason I'm here on this earth."

"That's as maybe but there's no need to be a slave to genetic impulse, it can easily be over ridden by a wee rubber thing."

"But why not?"

"Because frankly there's more than enough people already and besides it's such a lot of hard work?"

13th July. Oban And Back In A Day! - I Receive An Award.

Decided to cycle to Oban and back in a day for Steak Pie & Chips (only 194 miles).

Awoke at 3 .40 am, I could get up now, I thought but then waited till the alarm at 4.00am.

Away at 5 am. but had an unnatural bowel movement in the Ladies conveniences at Comrie 6.45am. 

The Gents was locked. Why? because women need the toilet more? What about the prostate for starters?

Mentally the route can be divided up for the sake of sanity;  Home - Burger Van - Chip Shop - Burger Van Again - Home, as well as regulating that all important on  bike fueling.

The whole day was, frankly, a testament to unhealthy eating. 

As far that 'Energie' drink I'm afraid it was implicated in the 'Comrie Event' so I switched to something more widely available in the shape of warm Coca-Cola. 

It may be gassy but I'd sooner that than risk soiling my Tri-suit. 

The 150 mile mark saw me back at the Burger van and only 50 miles to go.

"A cup of tea please."

"Well how far did you get today?" says the Burger Van man.

"Oban"

"Oban?!  Christ! You must really like cycling! How long did you stay in Oban?"

"Long enough to eat a Steak Pie & Chips."

"?"...  "Will there be anything else today?"

"Err one of those Tunnock's wafers. How much is that altogether?"

"Oh you can have that Tunnock's wafer for pedalling that far!"

"Are you sure?"

5th July. Conversation With An Alkie In Crail.

Decided to cycle to Crail for fish cakes and chips only about 90 miles.

There was a bench in the sun but with a tell-tale bottle of White Star cider on the ground, "a favourite amongst the homeless and students, due to its low price, neutral taste and alcohol content of 7.5%."

After about three chips an older male with some noticeable facial scarring and a smell ambles up in a de rigeur quilted brown anorak zipped up to the neck despite a temperature in the high twenties.

"Howzitgoin' big man whereaboutsyecomfy?"

"Bridge of Earn."

"Brigo'earn! ah know it weil.  Ah've a reputation as far as Perth...

A reputation for fightin', MacPhees, Townsleys, ah've brocht them a' doon. 

That bampot in Anstruther he thinks he's hard..."

"Yeah?"

"That bampot in Anstruther, he thinks he's hard, ah'm gonnae see him tonight, he thinks he's hard but he's got anither thing comin', I'm gonnae see him tonight."

I wiz schooled in ev'ry type o' violence it's in ma blood, ma faithers side an' ma mither's, that bam in Anstruther he thinks he's hard but ah'm in a diff'rent league don't get me wrong though mate ah'm no' the kind o' person that'll pick a fight but if you get in ma way ah'd rather pit ye through a shop windae an' that's an end tae it.

Ah wiz a bare knuckle fighter..."

"Yeah?"

Ah've lost ma wife, Ah've lost ev'ry thing mate, and ah don't mean money, Ah could get money ony time but ah've got pride, ah've lost ma wife, ma brother tae, a Sergeant Major in the Black Watch... "

(Silence and long pause for reflection, I eat half a fish cake)

"Ah'm livin' on borrowed time mate..."

"Yeah?"

"Ah've got Cancer... 

but that bam in Anstruther he thinks he's hard, Ah know ev'ry move they make, Ah can watch them, Ah can size a man up an' bring them doon wi' wan blow, karate, kung fu, street fighting Ah ken it a'... ah've lost ma wife, ah've lost ev'rything mate but ah've got pride"

(Pauses to take a swig of White Star)

"Ah was a boxer you know, in the army..."

"Yeah?"

"The Irish army... the IRA.

That bam in Anstruther he thinks he's... "

"D'you want a fishcake? I'm a bit full."

"Nah, no thanks mate ah wuidnae dae that, you finish it aff yoursel'."

"No honestly."

"No ah couldnae dae that mate, ah've got pride..."

"That bam in..... etc etc...

1st July. "What About Doing Ironman France Next Year?"

It's just like that guy said from Quebec on the bus to the Energy Party who'd done 12 Ironman races

"You'll think at the time you'll never do another Ironman, then a couple of days later you'll be looking for another event to enter, it's addictive, believe me."

To be honest I never really felt I'd never do another one during the race but it came as a bit of a surprise when The Otter opined that doing the exact same race, not just another Ironman somewhere else, would be a good idea.

"Well you know everything about the race and then you can't really compare one race with another, I could easily take an hour off my time."

Dear, dear, dear, it's well known that the Addictive Personality simply doesn't have an off button.