What challenge for 2013? A triathlon. To be more specific, the London Triathlon 27 July 2013. A 1.5 km swim in the Thames docks, 40 km cycle through the center of the city finished up with a 10 km run around the docklands.
Why? Basically because I feel unfit, have just turned 30 and want to to drag myself back from a slow physical decline into middle-age. It is all good and well to say I will get fitter this year, but without a set goal I know lethargy will get the better of me. I did a marathon a few years back, practically destroyed myself (marathon blog - my celtic body shape is not designed for 26.2 miles of pounding) and certainly do not want to do that again. A triathlon seems the natural thing.
A good idea? It certainly seemed so when I paid up the hefty entry fee after a few beers a week or so ago. In the light of day, perhaps less so. Having just got in from my first quasi training run, almost certainly not. Half an hour running across, up and down the streets which criss-cross Mount Penteli on the outskirts of Athens and I am beat. The calves ache and the chest is pounding. Perhaps I am not built for this either! Then again, somewhere at the top of a steep rise about half way through my run, I caught a glorious view across the forested norhthern suburbs of the city to the snow-capped mountains beyond, paused, took in a few deep breaths and felt the best I have for ages.
Take the rough with the smooth I suppose (the rough undoubtedly including learning to distance swim, 400 m is pushing it for me, let alone 1.5 km). A lot of pain, the odd injury and adventure awaits. It's all in the journey I suppose.
Why? Basically because I feel unfit, have just turned 30 and want to to drag myself back from a slow physical decline into middle-age. It is all good and well to say I will get fitter this year, but without a set goal I know lethargy will get the better of me. I did a marathon a few years back, practically destroyed myself (marathon blog - my celtic body shape is not designed for 26.2 miles of pounding) and certainly do not want to do that again. A triathlon seems the natural thing.
A good idea? It certainly seemed so when I paid up the hefty entry fee after a few beers a week or so ago. In the light of day, perhaps less so. Having just got in from my first quasi training run, almost certainly not. Half an hour running across, up and down the streets which criss-cross Mount Penteli on the outskirts of Athens and I am beat. The calves ache and the chest is pounding. Perhaps I am not built for this either! Then again, somewhere at the top of a steep rise about half way through my run, I caught a glorious view across the forested norhthern suburbs of the city to the snow-capped mountains beyond, paused, took in a few deep breaths and felt the best I have for ages.
Take the rough with the smooth I suppose (the rough undoubtedly including learning to distance swim, 400 m is pushing it for me, let alone 1.5 km). A lot of pain, the odd injury and adventure awaits. It's all in the journey I suppose.
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