Well its been a few weeks since my self-indulgent blog and as promised back on track in several ways. Its been about 6 weeks since our loss, 6 weeks of pretty quiet in the household, 6 weeks less muddy paws, short white hairs and always looking for the quiet shady spot in the car park, but that all looks set to change with the imminent arrival of a new four legged friend – more on that in a future blog. Today is about being back on track in an exercise sense.
I come from a generation when Spam was something that you had in a sandwich, or sometimes if you were exotic in a fritter or for those with more bohemian upbringings who were allowed to watch Monty Python something that featured in a comedy show. Nowadays of course its real purpose is to protect us from unsolicited e mails offering us a great prizes, never before imagined wealth or beautiful foreign wives (and Caroline gets these offers too so it’s not targeted at just me). My spam filter can generally be relied upon to weed these out so im usually fairly confident that what gets to my inbox is ok to read. In fact it’s sometimes a bit over zealous, jealously guarding me (like some electronic version of a GP’s receptionist) from intruders and hiding mail I would actually like to see.
Nevertheless that leaves me with an inbox whose content I have to judge by those snappy short subjects that modern life has forced us to dream up. In past times we had to judge our mail by the envelope, the handwriting and the postmark. Birthday cards and premium bond winnings being much more welcome than those brown envelopes that clearly contained demands for money. Nowadays that subject line is the one that fills you with either dread or excitement.
Earlier this week the little black pixels accompanying an e mail from a sometimes safe sender AKA my little Brother proclaimed “Fancy this”, so it seemed like a fairly safe bet. The content of his mail transported me back to the school playground and the days when playtime involved picking a team. I wasn’t often the first picked but thankfully I wasn’t ever the last either and this e mail from Ian had “Pick me” writ large all over it. I’m always up for a sporting challenge and im always keen to take part in something with my little brother, its something we still don’t do enough of but really!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This was an invite to join him in a (thankfully Sprint distance) Tri Athlon.
So the thoughts going through my mind were a mixed bag,
Nice idea/ not really ready for this, and there’s that nagging cough I’ve got at the moment, but a great chance to do some exercise in prep for the real challenges im planning later in the year. Oh look, it’s only a few days away, we’ll never get a place. Get out of jail card!
So my reply was yes if we can get a place, job done a qualified yes and it will be full.
Long moments passed, about 15 of them to be honest, followed by that Apple ping that says “you’ve got mail” and then that anticipation ended with the subject “I’m in” a mail from little bro confirming his place was booked. My “Get out of Jail” card suddenly swapped for a “Chance card”.
And so that is us back on track – literally, both entered at short notice for a sprint Tri in London tomorrow. The distances aren’t huge and it will be a great opportunity to focus. I already have a triathlon in my official back catalogue but it was probably about 30 years ago and my only two abiding memories are the real sense of achievement at finishing and the sight of our then Director of Finance in the transition area with a flask of coffee and a pack of sandwiches (they may even have been Spam). I’m reasonably confident about the swim bit, im similarly confident about the bike bit, but I haven’t done any running in a long time so my only hope at a decent time is to make sure that my transitions are good, no time for coffee and a sandwich for me.
I’ll let you know how it goes.