That One Time At Training Camp

One of these days, I’ll have a normal person holiday. I’ll go somewhere sunny and warm, by the beach that I’ll barely see because I’m too busy getting shitfaced by the hotel pool, somewhere I can wear flip-flops for casual everyday use and not just to comply with mainland Europe’s far superior public pool hygiene policies – fuck you Brexiteers, all I want is people in Streatham to shower before they get in the pool dammit – and I’ll wear a short-sleeved shirt six days out of seven and say everything very loudly and slowly in a terrible mockney accent, and probably alienate a whole bunch of people in some seedy nightclub. One of these days.

Maybe one of these days I’ll also be capable of getting my shit in order before I go on holiday so I don’t come back to a complete mess of a life, but hey ho let’s go

– I heel strike when I’m running, which was a thing I did not think I did. Now I have video evidence that I am a fast runner by working harder and not smarter. I must do everything I can to correct this minor, meaningless flaw of my person.
– The air quality in the Algarve is far superior to that of London (shock horror). At least that’s what I’m putting the 15-20 second difference in pace at a measured heart rate down to. Seriously, I was flying along without feeling like I was really trying (yes I know that contradicts the above shut up)

Arm warmers? Seriously?

– I am resolved to buy some nipple tape/pasties after my first experience with some upper body chafing. That’s not the Cornish type of pasties. For once.
– Although I am overdue buying some of those as well.

the gun  was meant to go 3 secs ago guys

– I take everything a bit too seriously.
– My swimming stroke has seemingly completely changed over the last couple of months. I have no idea when my elbows became so non-flexy. I seem to still be swimming at a reasonable clip, but as with the running, more through effort than technique.
– The one are I’ll let myself off on technique-wise is my sighting: straight like an arrow.
– Budgie smugglers are always impressive, anywhere one goes.

3rd wheel is my happy place

– On the other hand, cycling wise I am definitely coming down on the smarter side of things (both in getup and performance). I was able to hang with some stronger riders than me, enough to be the fastest athlete in the group across a 32km time trial and just about hang in there on a duathlon bike leg in order to take the win with a speedy run; this wasn’t achieved by laying down watts as much as it was by being super-aero and cornering/roundabouting very well.
– Apart from the breakaway chaingang incident which was definitely very much achieved through laying down the watts.
– Okay, the time trial was actually only meant to be 30k with a 2k warmdown. I said I was the fastest, not the smartest.
– Yes it was only a training duathlon but I WON A MULTISPORTS THING
– Europe has a fuckton of roundabouts. Portuguese drivers tend to forget they have indicators or that they should be giving way at roundabouts. The two together = hilarity.
– Electronic gears on a TT bike are love, electronic gears on a TT bike are life. Like both love & life they’re very expensive, but probably worth every penny.

trust me the first attempt at this shot was way less dignified

– Every day is skinsuit day when you’re this guy.
– I should probably take more time off from the flood of admin that running a massive tri club entails to do me stuff. It was a blissful week and I felt so de-stressed, even with the added exercise load. Now, I can’t exactly quit my day job because I’m not THAT good at triathlon, but it did make me realise how little time I allocate for myself on a daily basis (i.e. none, none at all). I was so content for a week.

Listening: Low – Like A Forest; morbid Mormon noise-merchants are a fav of mine.

Reading: Actually, I’m reading a lot of my own writing at the moment; because I’m planning to submit some to be published as part of an open contest. It’s kinda nerve-wracking.

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