I suppose I had better blog!

Hello everyone! Ha ha you thought the bloke in the silly Jafar costume was just a figment of your imagination! I am in fact very real and am just waking up to the fact (damn, I hate using the same word twice in the same sentence! (damn, just did it again!)) that I have agreed to take part in this triathlon. What was I thinking? I like cycling, can just about swim and can run OK so long as there's a pub where I'm running to. This is very different... It is good to be cycling again! Not good to have wonky cogs though!

There is a God!!!

...and thank Him. Fromage is still alive!

Does building furniture count as exercise?

If building furniture doesn't count as exercise it should. After a 3 hour wait for Ikea to deliver promised goods Fromage was finally able to get to work, 2 hours later and the 4th and final bookcase is finally complete. With Only a wardrobe to go the question on everybodys lips is. Will Fromage be able to finish the wardrobe early enough tomorrow to do some running?

Well it's the question on my lips anyway.

Feeling a little guilty...

Poor Fromage! But he did 20 miles today, after what was probably an unwise decision to cycle to Dewsbury and back after the mega-cycle yesterday. At least today was flat, and he got coffee and scones two-thirds of the way in (don't tell Nom and the Corporal).

Will he ever cycle again?

Veg did one and a half hours of yoga tonight and amazingly no bits dropped off. Yet.

From 1st October, the running begins. Aaargh!

I believe I have a week to live.

Thoughts of a dying man

Oww, my legs. Oww, my bum. Oww, my legs. Oww, my bum

Fromage is in pain, serious pain. Nobody told him that getting fit was so painful.

Need to go have a soak in the tub, anyone know of anything more powerful that deep heat?

Ilkley Triathlon Spying Mission

• Very short version: There's a bloody big hill.
  
  Long version: It seems that not all of our gang were prepared for the shock of public transport actually departing on time. So it was to be that myself and Corporaless Odd (for whom we really should agree on a soubriquet) ventured alone on the train to Ilkley, after a moment of extreme pathos seeing Veg, Nom and Fromage miss out by the slimmest of margins. (NB. This is the first time ever that 'slim' and 'Fromage' have been used in the same sentence, ever.)
  
  After a brief stop-off at that finest of Ilkley institutions, Greggs (sausage roll-mungous), we sought the triathlon by following the herds of parked cars. Sure enough, within a few minutes, the sound of a slightly moontouched public address system and the sight of an inflatable finishing archway were observed, we had reached Tri Central.
  
  Having spent a few minutes drinking in the atmosphere (which was plentiful) and smelling the fried onions (which also seemed plentiful), we managed to work out how to reach the Lido for the swimming. This was around 1:30, firmly in non-elite athlete territory, and thus instructive for us, the very definitions of non-elitehood. The first thing which struck me was the paucity of front crawl. To be honest, I had expected a majority of swimmers to be doing front crawl, however breastroke was the preferred option for approx. 60% of athletes I observed.
  
  A few more swimming observations:
  
  
  We won't have to practise diving, as all competitors (including elites) start in the water.


• None of the casual athletes did forward roll turns, much to my relief.


• Wetsuits were very much in the minority. Most people were wearing regular gender-appropriate swimsuits, which confused me a bit in the case of the men, who can't really hide a full set of cycling/running gear under swimming shorts. I guess they put that stuff on over the top, which to me sounds absolutely awful, but hey.


• For those who don't know, the starting times were staggered from about 10:30am to 4:30pm, in increasing order of swimming speed. The casuals are set off in groups of about 3, at about 5 minute intervals (actually, this might've been shorter). There's 2 or 3 to a lane, so even in a race, it's hard to find clear water :-(


• For Nom and myself, it seemed possible to leave glasses poolside. I didn't see anyone actually do this, but I did see one guy pick up a towel after finishing the swim, so I can't see why there couldn't be a pair of specs there as well. Either way, it'd be extremely hard to get lost, given the number of marshals around.


• The fans are awesome. We spent about 10 minutes cheering on a complete stranger because the person next to us knew them. Everyone is like this.

By around 2:15, the desire to see lovely blue sky overtook us, and we headed out onto the cycle/run route. I particularly wanted to see the dreaded 'Curly Hill,' responsible for more pain and hurt than Miss Whiplash and my Seattle Mariners combined. We ventured out onto what is really a very pleasant countryside road, with bonus river and bridge action, albeit without bonus pavement, for about half an hour, until, just after the first turning, we found it.

ZOMG.

My first thought was "We have to go up this?" My second thought was "Four times?" It's extremely long, and extremely steep, I took some photos but I doubt they'll do it justice. The only real consolation is that the rest of the course must be downhill, more or less by default.

The other thing I was observing at this point was the selection of bikes being used. I must sadly report that about 98% of competitors had extremely nice road bikes, I think we saw only 2 bikes that weren't ultra-fast. One rider even had a dedicated tri bike, the sort of thing which causes my tongue to loll unattractively, the sort of thing that costs roughly the same as a new car.

I. Want.

By now, it was time to head back for the elite swimmers. Most of these guys were pretty swift, although by no means all, and there was about a 50/50 split of roll turns (or whatever they're called) and grab turns. In particular, there was a 15-year-old kid and an adult which went in after everyone else had finished, these guys were going for race records and went like proverbs off a stick, about 6 minutes for the kid and 5:30 for the guy. Not exactly the sort of thing we can aspire to, but fun nontheless.

Back to Tri Central, and the finishing post. Not before a quick look at the various tri toys available for purchase, though. All the cool stuff I can't really justify at this stage. Massage too, excitingly. Anyway, the finishing line, complete with an MC-type calling out the names of finishing competitors, and orchestrating applause, which was lovely. The spectators lining the last few yards made a guard of honour. I am very much looking forward to this next year.

To our chagrin, we couldn't stay for the last finishers (bear in mind these were the elites) but I think we saw the winner, #316, who I believe beat 55 minutes. 55 minutes! Goodness me. Wandered off at 5:25, after a few Mexican waves (oh yes!), using the ancient Oriental technique of "being early for the train".

Finishing off with ice-cream and KFC (Boneless Banquet, awesome), we reflected on a day well spent.

Pictures below. Might be bandwidth-intensive, we'll see.

Sausages, burgers and cheese...

It all went wrong! Monsieur Fromage rendez-vous-ed at Nom/Veg Towers at 10am this morning to parkake in a saucisson, er...butty, and then on to town. Unfortunately they decided on reaching the town centre (well...mostly downhill) that they should stop for a beer. FAIL. It's quite comedic (in retrospect) to be pressing the 'door open' button on a train and wailing 'nnooooooooooo!!' as it pulls away from the station. Result: we couldn't get to Ilkley to see what we're up against next year and so Corporal Odd will be the only one waking in the night to think of the child who can swim 500m in 6 minutes.

After an imprompu trip to Halfords to cheer us up, where we learned that the beautiful yellow Carrera would never convert to 'town and trail', Veg left with an on-bike mini-computer thingy that only Nom can work due to it being too complicated for blondes. Fromage invested in a heart-rate monitor so he will be the first to know the damage - does it go up to 455bpm we wonder?

To cut the story short, we made it home alive. Veg and Nom ensured that Fromage had returned to the dairy and then charged down to Veg/Nom Towers shouting 'wheeeeee!' in true Fromage-tribute style. (It's all downhill!)

Donations to the Monsieur Fromage Thigh Replacement Fund will be gratefully received, but the cheese did well. He did very well.

*Veg has just noticed that Corporal Odd has made the ticker work properly as well as making the avatars link and basically everything else work right too. Veg will just stick to making pizza and gravy, but not together...Thanks Corporal Odd!!

Eeeh up, that's a grand wall...

Nom and Veg have spent today in training...upper-body specific training. In fact they've been dry-stone walling all day like proper Yorkshire people. We have it on authority from the expert that dry-stone walling hurts in the thighs, so Nom and Veg may be crying tomorrow on the planned cycle.
Fromage has been enticed over to Nom/Veg Towers on the promise of sausage butties if he cycles to town (uphill, then downhill) and back (uphill, then downhill) afterwards. He hasn't been informed of the route. We're then going to see what we're letting ourselves in for triathlon-wise.
Corporal Odd and Mrs Odd are taking the sensible plan of getting the bus down, unless the Corporal goes for Nom and Veg's idea of giving Mrs Odd a croggie/backie respectively. (They're from East/West Yorkshire respectively...)
Hmm...updates later - if we haven't dropped dead from shock.

P.S - Do Sports Biscuits exist anywhere in the world any more?

An eyeful of bugs...

Nom and Veg cycled to work this morning and were very smug as they ate, respectively, a double sausage and egg buttie and a bacon buttie...mmmmm.....breakfast.....

People in work still think we're insane and poor Fromage is getting the brunt of the ridicule. The world will repent when he wins!

Tonight, Nom and Veg cycled from work to Heckmondwike and back on the Greenway. Heckmondwike may be the second-best name for a village ever...after Shelf, but it has a soft spot in the Nom's amusement anyway. It was an unbelievable buggy journey with most of the flying insects making a beeline (ho ho!) for Veg's eyeballs. Now I understand why cyclists wear sunglasses at night! Nom very kindly picked two mini flying gremlins out of Veg's eyes (along with a lot of glitter from her impractical eyeshadow) and they continued to the supermarket. The visit to Morrisons for lasagne ingredients was less than fun, (think zombies, but with trolleys) but the lasagne that Nom cooked up afterwards was more than worth it.

So, a good food day (in terms of taste, not health). And 13 miles of cycling. Good effort.

STOP PRESS: We have word that Corporal Odd's bike is ready! And it has a better than good bit that broke in the first place! He attends the release ceremony for his support group tonight and should hopefully be reunited with FrankenOdd's Monster before the weekend is out! Hooray! (And three cheers, says poor long-suffering Mrs Odd!)

Chained to t'laptop...Nom too tired to cycle

Veg and Nom cycled to work and back today, with Veg being a pain in the *parts where the saddle bruises* on account of being excited by her new bike. Did she tell the blog community about the disc brakes? They stop; ooh, do they stop, even when it takes 7 minutes to get home due to the solid downhillness...yay!

But Nom was too tired to cycle to Dewsbury and back as planned, due to a very, very busy day. However, it took 10-ish minutes to cycle home then 10-ish minutes to cross the road to get to our house. Grrr! If everyone cycled...

Fromage is doing well, despite learning that Nom's big blue helmet is too large when he was sure his shiny red one was the biggest. At least he managed a straight line (see below).

Corporal Odd is sadly still attending his support group. I'm sure it will all be worthwhile. Feeling sorry for Mrs Odd, as Odd Barracks must be a tense place to live as he awaits his orders. Still, his application for shortbread was accepted today, which must have raised troop morale a little.

We await Sunday when we learn for real what we have to be made of. Not cheese or Jaffa Cakes, I'm sure.

How do you ride a bike again?

After an excruciating 30 minute "get to know you" session Fromage was finally able to ride his bike in a straight line, feeling king of the world he set off down the street.

Obstacle 1, How to turn.

Despite the relative ease with which Fromage was able to turn the bike earlier it appear that in learning to ride in a straight line he has complete forgotten how to turn. After feeling very embarrassed and having to get off the bike Fromage returns home for more practice.

10 more minutes later and Fromage is off again, this time he get further than the end of his road. Once again feeling like master of the universe he sets out on his planned journey.

Obstacle 2, How does the highway code work to bikes again?

In comic fashion Fromage has completely forgotten how to indicate that he wants to turn, resulting in him having to take a rather "interesting" new route to avoid the cars who have no idea what he is doing.

Back of the quite roads Fromage decides he should cut his losses and head home. Now which way is home again.....

Oooh, dear, my bottom has gone dead!

Veg and Nom have to be honest; they couldn't get out of bed this morning, so the Vegmobile MkII (yay!!) and the Nom Travelling Device (NTD) were left in the care of the giant spider and they staggered up to work like big lazy lumps.

Meanwhile, Fromage had succeeded in cramming the Vegmobile Mk1 (hitherto known as the Cheesemobile or Brie-Velo) into the back of his car. Showing far more enthusiasm than any of us expected, he rushed to the local cycle shop and returned to display his shiny red helmet in the office (OK, if I hadn't said it, someone else would).

Corporal Odd attended his first squiffy handlebar support group tonight and will be frequenting their premises until the end of the week, when hopefully he will be reunited with Frankenodd's Monster, a half-steel, half-aluminium creation which will hopefully hold together better than the Oddsmobile Mk1. Alum keys, superglue and green stuff at the ready...

Veg and Nom cycled around 5 miles tonight, to Cleckheaton and back, but had to go home because Nom was cold. Blood like water that one...he doesn't know that he's leaving work early, cycling home and then across to Dewsbury tomorrow before he can have his tea.

The Battle of Halfords, Part the First

Squiffy handlebars be damned! Corporal Odd was extremely unamused by the Oddmobile's motiveless suicide yesterday. He voiced his lack of amusement in Halfords today. They seemed moderately unimpressed actually, as if 5-day-old bikes careering out of control is a common occurrence. This worries me greatly. I was probably fractionally irrational in all honesty, although I think I was entitled to be irate (a collector's item in itself) seeing as the breakdown was responsible for not only myself, but Veg and Nom having to wheel for over two hours.

Anyway, after no little macho posturing between myself and the manager (name omitted as I've forgotten it), I settled, wearily, for replacement of the stem and handlebars by lovely aluminium parts. And not, say, a large amount of free stuff. Gngh. I'm not very good at this complaining lark.

Therefore, I am bikeless until the weekend, at which point I will be too busy to actually use it. Bah humbug. Still, managed to get some running in. (Some does not neccessarily equal a large amount.)

EPIC FAIL. (note to self - don't let this become a recurring theme.)


PS. My beloved Seattle Mariners have now lost 11 games in a row...

New Vegmobile!

After yesterday's setbacks, Nom and the Corporal walked in to work (no running yet - it's all uphill!) with the Corporal resolving to make Halfords pay: nobody, but nobody should give the Corporal squiffy handlebars. Oh yes, after 5pm tonight they will regret this grave error.

Meanwhile, Veg was jumping up and down happily because today was delivery day of her pretty new bike WITH DISC BRAKES!!! De-spidering the Veg-mobile Mk1 for the last time, she struggled up the road, realising as she passed the Corporal's house that the road levelled out between Odd Barracks and work. Report to follow on the Corporal cycling home from Veg/Nom Towers. Uphill is not the word. Well, it is, but very uphill, although two words, is a better description.

Vegmobile Mk1 was left in the work car park for Fromage to cram into his car (no more excuses - Vegmobile Mk1 is now the Cheesemobile) and Vegmobile MkII has disc brakes! It was a very happy Veg who struggled very very uphill on the first leg of the journey home. How can it be uphill both ways?

Veg has to do her first yoga class tonight, whilst we send the Corporal our prayers for a friendly Halfords. More to follow, but did I mention that Veg has disc brakes?!!!

Thank you!

We'd like to say thanks to Mark Eccleston and his site http://thegreenfingeredphotographer.blogspot.com
for the pretty header (and not too girly - Veg was worrying!)

Thank you Mark!

Giving Halfords a kick

It was a beautiful day, so this morning after Nom and Fromage had finished work (Sunday morning...bleugh), Fromage went home to sit on his new reclining sofa ("I don't have a bike...honest!") whilst Nom headed home to rescue Veg from a complicated situation involving a revolving pedal, some bike oil and a tabby cat.

Corporal Odd (the Instigator) turned up for drill at 12.30 and after Veg and Nom's bikes had been de-spidered, the show was, in effect, on the road...

...until four miles into the journey, when Corporal Odd's shiny new red bike began to show signs of renegade handlebars. Hmm...

Nom, the designated responsible adult attempted to tighten the nut (on the bike, not the Corporal) with a house key, but an alum key was needed. So Corporal Odd and Veg did the honourable thing; delegating Nom to cycle home for an alum key whilst they headed for the pub.

Ten minutes later, Nom turned up, having met a very organised friend from work just a few minutes down the Greenway. Organised friend had brought alum keys. Hooray!

We made it to Dewsbury in silly times, despite Veg and Nom stopping at Tesco in Cleckheaton and filling their rucksack with...yes, veg. Nom sneaked in a bottle of wine too, but nobody is sure how that happened. Oh well, he had to carry it. And the rucksack was pink.

Heckmondwike again and disaster struck Corporal Odd. The old war wound, in the form of the squiffy handlebars, struck again and he had a full relapse. Nom worked hard, but it was a terminal case. We walked home from Heckmondwike.

Training session one: Fail.