20th June 2016
Hello World! I thought it was about time I checked in here, in case you were you worried about me. I didn’t want those of you who don’t see me shambling round South Brisbane thinking I might be languishing at the bottom of a pool, my frantic splashing mistaken by the lifeguard for epic friendliness. Or simply attempting to get to the other end of the slow lane…Or worrying that there had been a horrible wobbling incident involving car wheels and splatting. Those who have been reading along will know that any or all of the above are potential outcomes in my quest for triathloning glory.
I am minus a bit of flesh on my knee. And that resulted from being incrementally just more than motionless… (I am so talented on a bicycle!!) But mostly, I have just been feeling very dull, and couldn’t think of anything to tell you. Not in such a way as was worth jotting down in here, anyway. My head was full of blah blah blah. And whilst it might read just like that at the best of times, I do labour under the delusion that some of what I tell you might raise a laugh.
I fell off, twice, in one ride. The first was quite spectacular, but happened under the cover of darkness, so you’ll have to take my word for it, as there were no witnesses.
You remember I told you about the credit card find, when I came off my bike WITHOUT falling due to immense gymnastic agility. Well, more or less in the same spot, I was trying to find a smaller gear (I was going well, and was in a pretty small gear at the time – I was just being greedy for one even tinier). And there may be a likelihood that I was stamping on the peddles just a little too hard. (No – it was not like a toddler tantrum. It was far more decorous).
Anyway, the bike took a dislike to the way I was treating it and threw it’s own counter tantrum, spat off it’s chain, and I stacked. HOWEVER, I saw what the bike was up to and had the time and fabulous presence of mind *cough* to launch myself at the grass verge. (Note: athletic heroism involved). And I was completely uninjured. Bar a few bruises that turned up for a party the next day.
That was not the end of the morning’s events, though.
Rena encountered a flat, but because we’d fallen back to determine if her tyre really was flat, or whether we were just cycling over bumpy ground, (it was still fairly dark; it was not just my ageing eyesight), we lost Sonya and Colette, who were leading. Melissa and Rena pulled over to the side of the road, and I trundled off to play messenger.
I caught up and passed the message and we all turned around. Sonya and Colette rode off. I pushed off with my right foot clipped in (I usually clip in on the left first) and immediately stacked. Directly on my right knee. At 0.0001 mph.
Much foul language was directed at the universe. I limped disconsolately back to the group. Sonya and Rena were a crack pair of mechanics. And what had promised to be our longest Group 3 River Loop was somewhat curtailed!! (We did manage to squeak in a coffee back at base, though).
And I was a little more successful in the pool. I endured no injuries, at least. A little indignity as my swim bag was picked over…
I plucked up the courage to book into a stroke correction session at QUT. I’d seen on the website that there were 2 levels, and clearly informed the person taking my booking that I fitted all the criteria for Level 1 (can swim 25m of freestyle, but struggle with 50m). He told me to come at 12:00, which transpired to be Level 2 (can swim 50m). Cheeky!
For someone looking for specific feedback on a number of aspects of their swim stroke, I don’t think this session would be ideal. But for someone looking to progress from lessons to squad swimming, it incorporated some drills that focussed on improving technique and would be a good bridging session.
I ventured back to QUT one lunchtime with Mel, and put in a 30 minute session. I was more impressed by this session, as it turns out that 11:00 – 12:00 on Tuesdays and Thursdays is happy hour swimming, and you get access to the pool for $2!
They also have a squad that starts at 12:30. Turns out we were pootling about in their designated lanes, which we vacated pretty promptly when we saw the lifeguard writing up drills, to avoid him confusing us with people that wanted to work hard.
However, whilst we got out of his way quickly enough to avoid the work he had set, he did approach me when we’d got out of the pool and gave me feedback on my technique! And what I was doing wrong. Which was pretty impressive, as that was completely beyond the call of duty, and made me think I’d go back to his lunchtime squad sessions.
I suspect I am going to have to bite the bullet, though. Because improving my swimming is not a “nice to have” anymore. It is a necessity…
In September. At Raby Bay.
And that means I’m going to have to get to the point of swimming slightly more than 50m continuously….
Which suggests there will be more non-tantrums and the possibility of considerable sulking ahead…
The club newsletter has changed format slightly this week. With links to future events. Which is awesome.
In July. At Springfield.
At least that doesn’t require swimming. Just staying upright on a bike… And trying to make my legs turnover… All on the same day.
What could possibly go wrong?
In the meantime, I guess I should take advantage of the new swim sessions SBTC have launched.
If you want me, I’ll be in the slow lane!
Proof that I do actually go running as well as trying to do myself in by mechanical or watery means