M40

No, not the bolt-action sniper rifle used by the United States Marine Corps, nor the motorway between London and Birmingham, but the age group I suddenly find myself in. Since I’ve had ample time to prepare for that date it did not come as a complete shock and, as the office joker put it, I don’t look a day older than 45 anyway.



In theory I could start a whole new set of masters PBs but since I still have ambitions of bettering my existing ones I won’t do that (yet!). But I guess the age graded calculator will get used increasingly more often (though, in fairness, I’ve used it a lot in recent years anyway).

I had planned on going swimming on Wednesday, but as the alarm clock approached 6:20 I turned it off and, in a drastic deviation from my usual procedure, actually went back asleep. It was my birthday and I felt too old for sports.

We went to a restaurant in the evening and thoroughly enjoyed the evening but that got ruined afterwards when we walked into a pub, spotted the telly and within 10 seconds the fat one scored and put us out the Carling Cup. I walked straight out of the pub, feeling sick to the core.

Niamh vetoed my plan of a morning swim on Thursday because she thought I might still be over the legal alcohol limit by 7 o’clock for the drive to Killarney, so I did a slow 5 mile recovery run instead. I was pleasantly surprised by the lack of a hangover, but was still thoroughly pissed of about the football result (but, let’s be generous. It’s gonna be their last hurrah before insolvency, followed by relegation and winding up order, by which time the entire pathetic bunch of glory hunters will have switched sides, so let’s not begrudge them their one last small victory).

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, training, or mostly not, as it happened. By Friday morning I finally found my way to the pool but only had time for 40 minutes. I tried to concentrate on the many points that the coach had given me, but there are so many things to concentrate on that I tend to get muddled. Nevertheless, I can tell there is progress being made.

If things go to plan then I will sign up for my first triathlon tomorrow, but the race won’t be until May and it will be very much a fun event to me rather than a serious race. I’m basically testing the waters, quite literally in this case. It will be only a few weeks after Connemara, so an all-out effort would not be on the cards anyway.

The Farranfore 4 (4.2!) mile race that had been cancelled (and run unofficially) on St. Stephens’s Day will be repeated on Sunday, and I’ll most likely be there. After all it’s not far from home. This means there is no time for an interval workout this week, but with 2 20 milers and a race I will still have done my important sessions.

27 Jan

0 miles. Feeling too old

28 Jan

5 miles, 42:01, 8:24 pace, HR 133

29 Jan

40 minutes swim