I've felt ill ever since I started liquidizing that fruit in the morning.
A churning stomach and an excess of acid by about 11 am.
The other morning I was bent double over a flat pack chest of drawers from Argos which was making me feel nauseous to start with and I could just feel all that fruit frothing around.
First I thought it was the Passion fruit so I cut that out, then maybe it was the bananas? so I gave them the body swerve;
In the end there'd be no fruit left.
So what's the point of fruit if it makes you feel ill?
None.
28th October. Literally Another Arse Up.
Subject to an unspeakable violation this morning at Glaver Street.
"We'll have to have a look at your tail-end" which is Dr F's own choice of euphemism I suppose.
It might have been a different experience if instead of being a middle aged blowke with glasses Dr F. was a 29 year old blonde with 36DD boobs and was wearing outrageous heels and a pleated tartan mini-skirt.
As it was I just had to 'Think of England'.
Dr F. pronounced my Prostate to be 'normal sized', that is, according to the Internet like a walnut.
Yeah but maybe mine was only like a Brazil nut when it was normal.
Thinking of England, a good name for a rural pub with one of those Inn signs, where local worthies meet up, could be
The Cock & Prostate.
With a cross-sectional diagram out of a medical textbook on the sign.
"We'll have to have a look at your tail-end" which is Dr F's own choice of euphemism I suppose.
It might have been a different experience if instead of being a middle aged blowke with glasses Dr F. was a 29 year old blonde with 36DD boobs and was wearing outrageous heels and a pleated tartan mini-skirt.
As it was I just had to 'Think of England'.
Dr F. pronounced my Prostate to be 'normal sized', that is, according to the Internet like a walnut.
Yeah but maybe mine was only like a Brazil nut when it was normal.
Thinking of England, a good name for a rural pub with one of those Inn signs, where local worthies meet up, could be
The Cock & Prostate.
With a cross-sectional diagram out of a medical textbook on the sign.
26th October. Like Rocky - Sort Of...
Even the Government, and of course Tesco, say you should be eating 5 pieces of fruit a day.
What happens if you don't like fruit?
The Cancer Research 'scientific' 10k run time calculator asks: Do you eat five a day? as well as age, smoking, drinking etc.
There's no getting away from fruit and The Otter positively thrives on it, a winning combination of air-freighted, out-of-season, exotic, tropical, berries, citrus - whatever.
This fruit thing cannot be ignored as a factor in bladder function too.
First thing in the morning instead of cracking eggs into a jug, the answer is to drop fruit into a liquidizer and get it over with, just gulp it down like Rocky, in a one-er.
Is it working though?
A bit early to say but my poo flops out as easily as a monkey's afterbirth now.
What happens if you don't like fruit?
The Cancer Research 'scientific' 10k run time calculator asks: Do you eat five a day? as well as age, smoking, drinking etc.
There's no getting away from fruit and The Otter positively thrives on it, a winning combination of air-freighted, out-of-season, exotic, tropical, berries, citrus - whatever.
This fruit thing cannot be ignored as a factor in bladder function too.
First thing in the morning instead of cracking eggs into a jug, the answer is to drop fruit into a liquidizer and get it over with, just gulp it down like Rocky, in a one-er.
Is it working though?
A bit early to say but my poo flops out as easily as a monkey's afterbirth now.
22nd October. Dr. Oetker Writes...
"Blood in the urine is indicative of a possible Urinary Tract Infection possibly caused by being a dirty bastard, if you'd changed your underpants more often this would never have happened.
If the symptoms still persist after a course of antibiotics I wouldn't be surprised if you've got prostate cancer from sticking your head in one too many sooty chimneys, that's all down to career choice.
Either way I've no sympathy.
You may only have a couple of months."
If the symptoms still persist after a course of antibiotics I wouldn't be surprised if you've got prostate cancer from sticking your head in one too many sooty chimneys, that's all down to career choice.
Either way I've no sympathy.
You may only have a couple of months."
21st October. Welcome To Urinary World.
Monday night my piss looked like a cross between liquidized pumpkin and a pint of Caffreys, running made me want to stop for a pee every 100 yds.
It's true that Mrs G. gave me two plates of Pumpkin Risotto for lunch, does it colour your urine?
but pissing every 100 yds and nothing coming out?
What would Dr Oetker say?
Could it be too much wanking... Dr?
It's true that Mrs G. gave me two plates of Pumpkin Risotto for lunch, does it colour your urine?
but pissing every 100 yds and nothing coming out?
What would Dr Oetker say?
Could it be too much wanking... Dr?
19th October. Loser Loser Effing Loser! 4:1
An early lead quickly resulted in oxygen debt, the Otter drew level at the first km then gradually the gap widened.
Maybe the race was over?
It's possible that a ceiling exists to performance that no amount of training can raise, hence the theory of Natural Weakness.
However Sports Psychology points to the benefit of a positve attitude. Instead of asking 'Why am I so bloody slow?' one should re-phrase; 'What can I do to run faster?'
But it was hopeless, a Personal Best of 47 mins 1 sec just wasn't good enough.
"What was your time?" I gasped.
The Otter hadn't seen the large digital clock at the finish due to a gaze transfixed by some young woman's ass running directly in front.
Maybe the Otter was 5 seconds ahead more likely 10, we'll never know.
Junior came in at a creditable 1 hr 3 mins for someone who exercises about as much as 'Tiddles' the cat.
After race analysis consisted of me repeatedly interjecting into a conversation about the shape of women's asses that 'I should have won'.
Maybe the race was over?
It's possible that a ceiling exists to performance that no amount of training can raise, hence the theory of Natural Weakness.
However Sports Psychology points to the benefit of a positve attitude. Instead of asking 'Why am I so bloody slow?' one should re-phrase; 'What can I do to run faster?'
But it was hopeless, a Personal Best of 47 mins 1 sec just wasn't good enough.
"What was your time?" I gasped.
The Otter hadn't seen the large digital clock at the finish due to a gaze transfixed by some young woman's ass running directly in front.
Maybe the Otter was 5 seconds ahead more likely 10, we'll never know.
Junior came in at a creditable 1 hr 3 mins for someone who exercises about as much as 'Tiddles' the cat.
After race analysis consisted of me repeatedly interjecting into a conversation about the shape of women's asses that 'I should have won'.
18th October. A No Win Fun Run Situation.
The Otter has been training in secret having completed a couple of 10ks during the week and seems to be hinting at some downloaded program that aims at a future sub 30 min time.
However he may have neglected that all important rest period and by the sounds of it is suffering from some bronchial trouble or common cold.
If I win the bets are off because it's not a fair contest, if I lose it'll be a total humiliation, a bit like the opponent having one hand tied behind his back and still coming out tops.
However he may have neglected that all important rest period and by the sounds of it is suffering from some bronchial trouble or common cold.
If I win the bets are off because it's not a fair contest, if I lose it'll be a total humiliation, a bit like the opponent having one hand tied behind his back and still coming out tops.
16th October. Tesco Fatties 10k Facesaver.
In the current Otter Series the scorecard has been marked up as 3:1 to the Otter, although the last defeat was frankly mechanical.
This Sundays race against Cancer (although apparently marathon running actually gives you cancer), presents another opportunity to save face.
The Otter has undergone gait analysis with some woman and will be pre-occupied with whether his pelvis is going forwards when it should be going backwards, or vice-versa and just how much damage, permanent and otherwise the act of running will be doing.
Junior is coming along, although without any training whatsover should be down with the fat ladies.
With the perfect physique for running I should be well ahead...
This Sundays race against Cancer (although apparently marathon running actually gives you cancer), presents another opportunity to save face.
The Otter has undergone gait analysis with some woman and will be pre-occupied with whether his pelvis is going forwards when it should be going backwards, or vice-versa and just how much damage, permanent and otherwise the act of running will be doing.
Junior is coming along, although without any training whatsover should be down with the fat ladies.
With the perfect physique for running I should be well ahead...
13th October. In Memorium.
As the nights are drawing in I decided to invest £8.30 or thereabouts in the glimmerisation of the rear of the Raleigh.
The advent of the LED came too late for Dicky S. the celebrated local Pyromaniac who came to an untimely end riding without lights on the B935 several years ago.
It was the recollection of this event that hastened me to Halfords before following the same route as there is a long dark road ahead if there's to be any chance of completing 180kms on a scorching day in the Sud de France.
The advent of the LED came too late for Dicky S. the celebrated local Pyromaniac who came to an untimely end riding without lights on the B935 several years ago.
It was the recollection of this event that hastened me to Halfords before following the same route as there is a long dark road ahead if there's to be any chance of completing 180kms on a scorching day in the Sud de France.
12th October. Running Uphill Through Cow's Skitters In Sandals.
There's no way an ordinary human being can complete Ironman France without a strict training regimen.
Frankly we're into uncharted waters here with a divergence from the usual half-arsed minimum effort approach.
But really it doesn't seem right at all.
I mean, I see myself finishing in the top ten, the only training will be the long casual cycle down to the south of France on Eddie Webb's dad's bike I bought from David for a fiver in 1973.
Anyway this is all fantasm I tell myself heading up the Wallace Road ankle deep in bovine excreta and general gutters, luckily I was wearing clarks sandals for this 20k "training" run.
Well it was really 2 x 10k broken by tea with toast and jam at Alistair's who needless to say has little or no interest in endurance sport.
"I'm going back to Los Angeles, to go flying again"
"How can you possibly justify that?"
"It's my only hobby"
"Yeah but its kind of an expensive one compared with..."
"Stamp Collecting?"
"Well if you like."
Frankly we're into uncharted waters here with a divergence from the usual half-arsed minimum effort approach.
But really it doesn't seem right at all.
I mean, I see myself finishing in the top ten, the only training will be the long casual cycle down to the south of France on Eddie Webb's dad's bike I bought from David for a fiver in 1973.
Anyway this is all fantasm I tell myself heading up the Wallace Road ankle deep in bovine excreta and general gutters, luckily I was wearing clarks sandals for this 20k "training" run.
Well it was really 2 x 10k broken by tea with toast and jam at Alistair's who needless to say has little or no interest in endurance sport.
"I'm going back to Los Angeles, to go flying again"
"How can you possibly justify that?"
"It's my only hobby"
"Yeah but its kind of an expensive one compared with..."
"Stamp Collecting?"
"Well if you like."
11th October. The Earnman.
"An opportunity has arisen to do the Earnman swim tomorrow" read a late communique from the Otter.
Course it was a different story standing by the side of the black waters of the loch at four in the afternoon with a fresh westerley breeze.
"I just can't imagine swimming that far" I said peering down the lochside to some point miles away.
"It's bloody miles away!"
"Well it is - two miles exactly,"
"It'll be dark at this rate."
"Well I'm not that fussed about doing it at all, I'm quite hungry actually, what benefit is there to be gained from doing this?."
"It was your idea!"
"Yeah but think how nice it would be if it was flat calm."
"It's not going to be flat calm in the sea at Nice."
The question is what to think about during what amounts to an isolation tank experiment, the earplugs, the misted up goggles and the gradual numbing of the entire body.
Uppermost in my mind was 'It can't be far to that bloody fish farm' or 'Where is that bloody fish farm?'
The fish farm smelt pretty fishy, so that sense was still operating.
On arrival at the end point a bit past the fish farm I couldn't stand up being more hyperthermic than the Otter. Then had difficulty steadying one hand to get the key in the car door.
In retrospect it was maybe a bit late in the season for open water swimming.
Course it was a different story standing by the side of the black waters of the loch at four in the afternoon with a fresh westerley breeze.
"I just can't imagine swimming that far" I said peering down the lochside to some point miles away.
"It's bloody miles away!"
"Well it is - two miles exactly,"
"It'll be dark at this rate."
"Well I'm not that fussed about doing it at all, I'm quite hungry actually, what benefit is there to be gained from doing this?."
"It was your idea!"
"Yeah but think how nice it would be if it was flat calm."
"It's not going to be flat calm in the sea at Nice."
The question is what to think about during what amounts to an isolation tank experiment, the earplugs, the misted up goggles and the gradual numbing of the entire body.
Uppermost in my mind was 'It can't be far to that bloody fish farm' or 'Where is that bloody fish farm?'
The fish farm smelt pretty fishy, so that sense was still operating.
On arrival at the end point a bit past the fish farm I couldn't stand up being more hyperthermic than the Otter. Then had difficulty steadying one hand to get the key in the car door.
In retrospect it was maybe a bit late in the season for open water swimming.
9th October. Fish Man.
"Endless repetition" the Otter claims, is the way to improvement in swimming.
I set myself the goal of swimming 120 lengths, which is roughly equivalent to 150 lengths of that overheated paddling pool for the pampered that the Otter frequents.
After God knows what distance I feel like a creature that is coming up to breathe like a fish in water rather than a fish out of water.
I celebrate with a whole fish supper rather than just the medium.
I set myself the goal of swimming 120 lengths, which is roughly equivalent to 150 lengths of that overheated paddling pool for the pampered that the Otter frequents.
After God knows what distance I feel like a creature that is coming up to breathe like a fish in water rather than a fish out of water.
I celebrate with a whole fish supper rather than just the medium.
7th October. The Glimmer Man.
I'd have come in for a bit of criticism if the Otter had come LED fell running tonight, re route finding.
To be honest trying to find a way from East Dron Hill To Culteuchar Hill is like searching for the North West Passage, instead of pack ice there's ranks of Sitka Spruce not shown on maps.
Darkness fell, the drizzle continued, I found myself in a ravine plunging through saturated grass and banks of nettles in shorts, which it has to be said still retained a surprising amount of sting despite being so late in the season.
A pheasant broke cover surprised by the glimmer of the three LEDs I half expected to meet a shooting party, how would one begin to explain oneself?
For the same reason, once clear of the rain forest and running down a sloping stubble field towards the lights of a farm house I put the head torch off to avoid creating some sort of UFO spectacle or perhaps moving target.
The lasting effect is similar to having rubbed well in some brand of Very Extreme Deep Heat from the ankles to the knees.
It looks to be a restless night.
To be honest trying to find a way from East Dron Hill To Culteuchar Hill is like searching for the North West Passage, instead of pack ice there's ranks of Sitka Spruce not shown on maps.
Darkness fell, the drizzle continued, I found myself in a ravine plunging through saturated grass and banks of nettles in shorts, which it has to be said still retained a surprising amount of sting despite being so late in the season.
A pheasant broke cover surprised by the glimmer of the three LEDs I half expected to meet a shooting party, how would one begin to explain oneself?
For the same reason, once clear of the rain forest and running down a sloping stubble field towards the lights of a farm house I put the head torch off to avoid creating some sort of UFO spectacle or perhaps moving target.
The lasting effect is similar to having rubbed well in some brand of Very Extreme Deep Heat from the ankles to the knees.
It looks to be a restless night.
6th October. Team Banana.
Now awaiting delivery from eBay by Parcel Force of a race replica 531 Raleigh Team Banana frame, I kid you not.
The logic is, if it was good enough for the pro racer of the late 1980's surely it's good enough for the likes of me.
I hear the Otter is set on spending up on some sort of alloy/carbon machine eschewing the choice of handbuilt steel for the work of Robbie The Far Eastern Robot.
Anyway following yesterday's one legged cycling revelation I have begun a program called the Uni-leg Method, another string to Dr Oetker's bow.
As the nights are drawing in, this drill has to be executed by the LED glimmer of a headtorch in the dark
The logic is, if it was good enough for the pro racer of the late 1980's surely it's good enough for the likes of me.
I hear the Otter is set on spending up on some sort of alloy/carbon machine eschewing the choice of handbuilt steel for the work of Robbie The Far Eastern Robot.
Anyway following yesterday's one legged cycling revelation I have begun a program called the Uni-leg Method, another string to Dr Oetker's bow.
As the nights are drawing in, this drill has to be executed by the LED glimmer of a headtorch in the dark
5th October. Duathlon Disaster- The Otter Cleans Up.
A touch of ground frost saw the Otter rigged out in woolly hat and gloves.
The field soon strung out, I could hear a characteristic burping somewhere behind and then a bit later the sound of fleet feet coming past with the inevitable lapping on the third lap by the front runners.
The Otter was behind but still in contention that was, until after Transition one. I had the new secret weapon of the E bay wheels...
Going well and pulling a higher than normal gear, stripped down to the bare Lycra for full aerodynamics, the mountain bike mounted Otter was left virtually standing.
Passing some other riders I was already composing a blog based around Triumph! or Victory! until...
BANG!
Without warning, whilst standing up on the pedals for maximum effort uphill, the right hand pedal had managed to unscrew itself, naturally the sudden loss in balance with the other foot still attached to the left pedal resulted in a close encounter with Tarmac of the A907.
To cut it all short the thread was a bit mangled so the pedal wouldn't go back on the crank and the Otter came passed assured of another automatic win.
The only plus point was the realisation that a few miles of one legged cycling is an excellent drill for improving pedalling efficiency.
The field soon strung out, I could hear a characteristic burping somewhere behind and then a bit later the sound of fleet feet coming past with the inevitable lapping on the third lap by the front runners.
The Otter was behind but still in contention that was, until after Transition one. I had the new secret weapon of the E bay wheels...
Going well and pulling a higher than normal gear, stripped down to the bare Lycra for full aerodynamics, the mountain bike mounted Otter was left virtually standing.
Passing some other riders I was already composing a blog based around Triumph! or Victory! until...
BANG!
Without warning, whilst standing up on the pedals for maximum effort uphill, the right hand pedal had managed to unscrew itself, naturally the sudden loss in balance with the other foot still attached to the left pedal resulted in a close encounter with Tarmac of the A907.
To cut it all short the thread was a bit mangled so the pedal wouldn't go back on the crank and the Otter came passed assured of another automatic win.
The only plus point was the realisation that a few miles of one legged cycling is an excellent drill for improving pedalling efficiency.
2nd October. 10k run/40k bike/5k run. " The Facesaver."
E bay has provided an upgraded pair of wheels in time for the next event in the Walrus/Otter Series - The Stirling Duathlon.
No water involved on Sunday, just cycling and running.
The Otter is compromised by:
1. No swimming.
2. No women in Lycra probably only shorts to chase after.
3. No road bike, having to make do with mountain bike tyres on the road.
4. No-train week due to a bad case of shellfish bottom, unless it was a mouthful of effluent in last weeks Jobbie Aquathon.
No water involved on Sunday, just cycling and running.
The Otter is compromised by:
1. No swimming.
2. No women in Lycra probably only shorts to chase after.
3. No road bike, having to make do with mountain bike tyres on the road.
4. No-train week due to a bad case of shellfish bottom, unless it was a mouthful of effluent in last weeks Jobbie Aquathon.
29th September. Me 1. The Otter 2.
Third in the Otter/Me Series of events saw defeat in the Jobbie Aquathon by two and a half minutes.
The Otter's swim time was compromised by gagging on the saltwater but not compromised enough apparently.
"Where else can you see fit birds in Lycra - outside?" announces the Otter "It's the outside bit that gets me."
It's becoming apparent that the very real improvement in run time is driven simply by chasing after attractive women in skin tight clothing.
The Otter's swim time was compromised by gagging on the saltwater but not compromised enough apparently.
"Where else can you see fit birds in Lycra - outside?" announces the Otter "It's the outside bit that gets me."
It's becoming apparent that the very real improvement in run time is driven simply by chasing after attractive women in skin tight clothing.
27th September. To Infinity And Beyond!!
Had to draw down funding from the Otter to make sure of entry into Ironman France 2009.
Dear oh dear. Of course without endless weeks of training the result will be no result - just DNF or even DEATH.
The Otter is confident of finishing even at this stage of the process although probably not if the event was tomorrow...
Tomorrow the event is the Tampon Jobbie Hyperdermic Aquathon offshore of Leith, an early start.
"Phone me at 6.30" says The Otter "I'm not very good at waking up."
The grey waters of the Forth promise a rude awakening.
Dear oh dear. Of course without endless weeks of training the result will be no result - just DNF or even DEATH.
The Otter is confident of finishing even at this stage of the process although probably not if the event was tomorrow...
Tomorrow the event is the Tampon Jobbie Hyperdermic Aquathon offshore of Leith, an early start.
"Phone me at 6.30" says The Otter "I'm not very good at waking up."
The grey waters of the Forth promise a rude awakening.
24th September. The Otter's Lost The Plot.
This blog appears to have degenerated into nothing other than guff about Triathlons.
Now the Walrus/Otter has lost it completely after receiving that award, signing up for every available upcoming event remaining on the calendar.
Aquathons, Half Marathons, Duathlons, 24hr Mountain Biking (Eeee Gads!) needless to say I feel compelled for some strange reason to follow suit.
I've just paid thirteen quid to wallow in and swallow no doubt the grey waters of the Firth of Forth just along from Leith.
What springs to mind is sanitary towels and worse making their way down the estuary still it should all be over in a matter of fourteen minutes for me and much less for the Otter.
Then there'll be an opportunity to save face with the following 5km sprint to a photo finish?
What are Ladbrokes offering ?
What takes the biscuit though was the announcement of the Otter's fully paid up entry into Ironman France 2009,
Really who could be arsed?
Now the Walrus/Otter has lost it completely after receiving that award, signing up for every available upcoming event remaining on the calendar.
Aquathons, Half Marathons, Duathlons, 24hr Mountain Biking (Eeee Gads!) needless to say I feel compelled for some strange reason to follow suit.
I've just paid thirteen quid to wallow in and swallow no doubt the grey waters of the Firth of Forth just along from Leith.
What springs to mind is sanitary towels and worse making their way down the estuary still it should all be over in a matter of fourteen minutes for me and much less for the Otter.
Then there'll be an opportunity to save face with the following 5km sprint to a photo finish?
What are Ladbrokes offering ?
What takes the biscuit though was the announcement of the Otter's fully paid up entry into Ironman France 2009,
Really who could be arsed?
21st September. I'm a Failure - The Walrus Picks Up An Award.
"I don't know why you carried on and went up The Ben, I'd have gone to the Pub." said the victorious "Sea Otter" formally known as The Walrus.
The early dip in Loch Linnhe just opposite Morrisons gave the Walrus/Otter a head start, despite frittering away about 8 mins in Transition 1 pfaffing around with base layers.
Then as predicted, more or less, my Big Ben Nevis Triathlon unravelled with automatic failure due to Natural Weakness and a complete breakdown of the No-Training Policy particularly with respect to the hated Mountain Biking.
"Take those last two off and put them on to the run they're five minutes past the cut off point for starting the fourth lap." said the Big Chief indicating me and some other hapless weakling.
So that was the end of the Mountain Biking, three laps instead of the four, to be quite honest I was getting a bit cheesed off with the 90km of two wheel hell by this point.
Well I thought it's all over now what's the effing point? so I stopped for a cup of tea with some of the marshalls at the foot of the tourist path to Britains highest point before pressing on.
A harsh reality check - I was going to be robbed of even the satisfaction of properly completing the race let alone vanquishing the formerly obese, I'd be simply marked down as DNF. DNF!
I'd only gone on about quarter of a mile further when who should come trotting up behind but the Sea Otter, with completion of the requisite four laps and a now guaranteed victory in hand.
This was of course, barring some chance fracture or knee dislocation during the hell-for-leather descent back to the town centre.
Anyway the awards were dished out later in the Ben Nevis Inn.
"...And each year we like to present a special prize... this year to..."
Yes, you've guessed it ... basically
A prize for not being fat.
There is loud applause.
The early dip in Loch Linnhe just opposite Morrisons gave the Walrus/Otter a head start, despite frittering away about 8 mins in Transition 1 pfaffing around with base layers.
Then as predicted, more or less, my Big Ben Nevis Triathlon unravelled with automatic failure due to Natural Weakness and a complete breakdown of the No-Training Policy particularly with respect to the hated Mountain Biking.
"Take those last two off and put them on to the run they're five minutes past the cut off point for starting the fourth lap." said the Big Chief indicating me and some other hapless weakling.
So that was the end of the Mountain Biking, three laps instead of the four, to be quite honest I was getting a bit cheesed off with the 90km of two wheel hell by this point.
Well I thought it's all over now what's the effing point? so I stopped for a cup of tea with some of the marshalls at the foot of the tourist path to Britains highest point before pressing on.
A harsh reality check - I was going to be robbed of even the satisfaction of properly completing the race let alone vanquishing the formerly obese, I'd be simply marked down as DNF. DNF!
I'd only gone on about quarter of a mile further when who should come trotting up behind but the Sea Otter, with completion of the requisite four laps and a now guaranteed victory in hand.
This was of course, barring some chance fracture or knee dislocation during the hell-for-leather descent back to the town centre.
Anyway the awards were dished out later in the Ben Nevis Inn.
"...And each year we like to present a special prize... this year to..."
Yes, you've guessed it ... basically
A prize for not being fat.
There is loud applause.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)