Karen and Kate's journey to Ironman and beyond

We've got some new staff at the organisation, which is now called " Diabetes Foundation Aotearoa ".  Sitting at the lunch table answering questions on the topic of endurance training and eventing, it reminds me of how long we've been doing the longer exercise efforts now, and that we take for granted how much we've learned over the years.   bike training isn't training without icecream Someone asked about nutrition in a long event and  I spouted off a bunch of words about the exact makeup of the breakfast that I've spent so many years messing around with, said something about a gel here and a banana there and a bumper bar somewhere else and a salt tablet when whatever and the importance of recovery nutrition...and then realised it sounded very much like I actually had it sorted.  I have to admit I don't really.  I'm not sure if anyone can ever say they have everything 100% nutrition or hydration wise for all conditions and circumstances,

Anyone else find that they think in song lyrics?  When I read the title above, it brings to mind a particular vintage song, something of an earworm.  It's the same out on the bike or running, I see something that reminds me of a song, or worse, hear one, and it's hours at the particular tempo of whatever bit of music. Anyway, taper has just started for Ironman number (engine...engine...number ...) nine, and I'm quite pleased with this year's progress.  I've got a complicated spreadsheet which tells me that I've done more running in the last 9 weeks, more swimming, and almost as much cycling as my best training effort in the past.  Knowing that should make me less anxious that I'm ready, however I'm also aware that I'm heavier than ever, older than ever, and taper-mania has nothing to do with being rational or reasonable, I'm surely going to catch something horrible, injure something unfixably, or just generally find some creative way to sabotag

I signed up for a gym contract a couple of years ago, it was an extraordinarily cheap deal, and the way it worked was my regular membership was less than I was paying for my twice weekly spin sessions.  For ages I thoroughly enjoyed guilt free spin, and the 'me-time' mucking around with the machines (do a set, stop and play with my phone for 10 min, do a set etc). I loved the rowing machine as I could pretend it was helping my swimming without actually doing the pesky swimming, and I could take advantage of the stationary bikes featuring exciting videos of exotic bike trails to stave off (yeah right) the boredom of a rainy day 5 hour indoor ride getting ready for Taupo. I suddenly realised...well I've suddenly realised a number of times but each time the thought skittered away...that I hadn't been IN the gym for six months, since before Ironman in fact.  Now there have been reasons for non-attendance, but there's been no reason not to drop by and put my membership

I updated the blurb for this blog, it talked about me being in my 40's with a young family... and a busy career. Now I'm in my 50's and have teenagers...and a busy career.   So what's different about being in your 50's after nearly a decade of distance run/swim/cycling?  I find it hard to actually imagine myself 10 years ago.  Did I feel any better running...probably not.  Did I get less/more injuries...who can say.  If I read what we've written here over the years it seems to be a constant progression of one injury after another with stubbornness being the key to keeping going.  And the range of glitches, injuries, lumps, bumps and bruises is quite extensive, these days I don't even remember when I get an ache if I've had that particular one before...maybe...or was it on the other side?  I've speculated that there seems to be something in play where the pain of one injury doesn't fully go away until you've got something else to replace i

If an antidote was needed to the debacle that was Ironman 2017, then Ironman 2018 was it.  I went in feeling plenty of trepidation, I hadn't even done as much training as I had for last year's horrible effort, but Taupo put on lovely weather thank goodness. It redeemed itself for Ironman number 7 on my part.  On the day, Kate did wonderfully, her brother did even better, and cut a long story short it was a perfect swim in the smooth lake (as it should be), tough cycle on that picturesque course without major wind grief (as it should be) and long hot run...um...walk up and down the road by the lake a few times culminating in that loud, ferociously lit-up crossing of the finish-line with Mr Ironman giving you what always feels like personal attention "you aaaaare and Irrrronnnnmaaaaan".  I got my medal put round my neck by Terenzo Bozzone, the winner.   An extraordinary triathlete, he'd tried and tried and tried at Taupo and not managed, until this time.  That w

Has it really been that long?  It has apparently, something I only just realised when I got an email reminding me that this blog where Kate and myself used to record our Ironman journeys was still in existence.  I now find myself wondering at how something that was so significant in our lives, where we poured out of our training delights and woes, mishaps and triumphs, can subside into insignificance...and actually be at risk of disappearing altogether into the land of digital excess. So time for an update?  The first question is did we stop exercising when the blog stopped, or more likely, as mature athletes are wont to do, did we just retire from our training madness.  I'm pleased to say no, we didn't stop or retire.  In fact, writing this is timely, we are off later this week for the annual trek to Taupo, for me it's Ironman number 7, Kate's had one or two off because she's been sensible and had other things she's wanted to do in life. The next question i