Oh merrr geerd

Sixty Five days.  Da absolute fuck.  Am totally unprepared, but as keen as fucking mustard.

OK so training program has not gone according to plan……Took rest day yesterday because dropped drawer on toe and couldn’t get shoe on.  I swear some fuck is sticking pins in a voodoo doll.

Now today was just a swim on the program.  Drove to pool, freaked out – millions of cars (probs 10) millions of people (probs 30) and I had major anxiety and drove home. I think it was kids swim lessons or something, the pool in Mount Isa would seldom have seen such traffic. Anyhoo, not for me just yet.

In other news, I was so cross with myself, I did 30 mins on bike at very hard gearing thingo.  The poor trainer was straining under the pressure. I had to do something.  That was tomorrow’s exercise, so I have swapped, and am getting up early to swim.

Chums, kick my virtual ass, and make me do this……

What the fuck is wrong with me and the lack of get up and go???????????

I’ve got up and gone 🙁

Talk soon,BN xxx

Tri, Tri Tri again

Evening all,

This was to be a triathlon training update, but……I can say “evening all” now because I have gone viral.  Well, viral for me, one visitor.  Thank you, whoever you are for visiting, and making my entire year thus far.  ONE VISIT. Fucking YAY!! Hope you are staying tuned, because its just me and thee…..

Anyhoo, back at Dirty Dusty triathlon training HQ (any other new folk may need to rewind and realise that despite the witty repartee, there is a serious (Feck) triathlon training shizzle happening behind all this humour and all round lovely blogness.

Today was this

Every time I do this, I fail miserably. Well, only at the freestyle head turning and not drowning thang. I can do the breasting stroke beautifully, but slowly, and have real trouble breathing with the crawling malarky. SO I came home all pissed off and unsure of whether I will even continue etc etc.

But do you know what chums?  This time I wont give up.  I reckon its going to be a bit like this

Loads of people and weedy, dirty, nasty water, where no one will notice me breast stroking slowly along.

I’m doing this for me.  Not a medal, not to win. For me.  Just to finish and the accomplishment of something huge. So I’m not getting disheartened, just carrying on with the training.

And the feckers had best be getting out of my way when I get on the bike. Seriously, I will run over them. It shall be my best leg, and I will go like the clappers of shite to make up time 🙂

In other news, I have been cooking up a storm of healthy foods today, and will continue tomorrow.  Will take some self indulgent photos to show you all (well, just the one of you). Its back to work on Monday, so need to be prepared.

So, all in all, another great day, except for the swimmings, but nothing that can’t be fixed.  Off to beds now, one more day of holidays, and hopefully a big ride on the bike.

Talk soon,

Take care,BN xx

Mortality and the middle aged woman.

So, chums, a quick quiz. What do Lucille Ball, George C Scott, John Ritter, Albert Einstein, many many more famous folk, and my grandfather have in common?

They all died from Aortic Aneurysm rupture. Not a pleasant way to go but quick, sudden and almost always without warning or prior detection. It’s where the walls of the main artery leaving the heart is enlarged to the point of bursting, and when it blows, theres not much that can be done, unless a crack team of cardiothoracic surgeons are standing by.

More here:

http://atelier-drachenhaus.de/aortic-aneurysm-location
So you can imagine my delight when after having high blood pressure, the doctor suggested an echocardiogram. Thats an up close and personal kind of procedure at the best of times, but when the operator says your aorta looks on the big side, whilst practically straddling you, I’m sure the poor soul felt my horror first hand.
I remembered straight away my grandmother telling me how my grandad had died suddenly from an aneurism, and he was only in his fifties. He never got to see my mum get married, or meet any of his grand kids. The horror I felt was real. Same age as me, and now I have the same thing……
Thus began a nightmare four weeks. Every burp or slight indigestion pain was of course the aneurism resecting, and my last few minutes on this mortal coil. Every muscle pain or cramp was the grim reaper calling me up. And Dr Google refused to take my calls. his search engines were jammed with me looking up all possible cures, causes and consequences, none of which were terribly favourable.
So I decided to get a decent GP and talk through it. He was very nice but non committal and referred me to a cardiologist. The very thought – I don’t need/want a cardiologist – I have bucket lists to conquer, not buckets to kick. So I waited for an appointment in the Godforsaken desert location I live in, and none came. So I called his rooms and went privately.
Dr Bejasus (or something like that) was just lovely. Listened intently to my ramblings about death from wind pain, and my impending mortality fears, looked me straight in the eye and said “you’re not going to die”.
THANK FUCK.
Dr Bejasus, I love you dearly. He went on to tell me that my measly 4.1 cm enlargement was nothing to worry about, we just need to keep the blood pressure down and all shall be well. His golden rule for panic and scalpel wielding is 5.5 cm. Obviously we have no idea how quick, if at all, mine will/is growing, but by all accounts I have a while longer to torture my nearest and dearest.
There were a few more high points to the consultation:
1. He didn’t laugh when I told him I was training for a triathlon. In fact he said competitive and even olympic athletes have been known to have low level aortic enlargement.
2. He practically begged me to continue training!!
3. He reckons that since I’ve lost 7 kilos and train 5 – 6 days per week, it has saved me from having two new medications being prescribed- I wont need beta blockers or cholesterol meds
4. He is dropping my blood pressure tablets back to a more suitable dose for those athletic types like me!!!!

So there it is. A brush with my mortality, many tears, and ultimately more resolve to continue this journey.

Sorry for not updating sooner, but I wouldn’t have been my normal witty self, and refuse to use this log to moan and whine!!

So, I have signed up for another 9 weeks with my trainers.  I hope they will take me back once I tell them about these developments, but even if not, I am still aiming for the Dirt and Dust in early April.

Stay tuned, this is going to get even more exciting, not there are higher stakes – I have to exercise or its more medication for me. And I’m more determined to share and spread the word that anything is possible, and age is just a number.

Take Care

BN xx

Swings and roundabouts

Its been a bit up and down for the past week, swings and roundabouts sort of sums it up.

swings

Wish my arse would fit into them swings, but….moving along……

So the fitness is now at week six.  The hill climbs are still fucking me over and I haven’t yet got to the top of one without near dying.

But, on Sunday, I had a brilliant day.  My trainers offered a free lesson on the bike, which was just brilliant.  Now the last time I was on a bike on the road was 1984. And I wasn’t a fan then.

Started off shite, but it was really like riding a bike, and soon I stopped wobbling and got on rather well. Except for the turning corners, which were’t great.

Then after some drills and several people falling off- we went out for a ride along the road.  Nearly shit my copious pants when a huge truck overtook us, and I didn’t even hear it coming.

I was flying along with the others, and having a lovely time, but got  a flat tyre that couldn’t be fixed so had to be rescued by car. But all in all, considering the 30 plus year gap in my cycling career, it was rather good.

Next day, the old missy bum was numb, and sitting was very tentative, but all in all I was chuffed with my return to the peleton. (or whatever its called)

So off I trotted to the swimming session next day, all full of my new triathlon career, and how I am going to ace the Dirt n Dust in April.

Roundabout moment. Swimming was shite.  Apparently everyone in Australia can swim like fuck, all glydie and freestyle and shit. Effortlessly skiting up and down, with hardly a splash.  And here’s me, struggling with the nanna breaststroke, head slightly in the water, inhaling most of the pool, and refusing to give in. So we raced in teams.  poor bastards that had me…. we were last.  It was awful.  Tragic even. So I came home completely deflated and rethinking the tri.

Todays session has lightened my spirits a bit. Weights, which I love, but the swimming is still in my head, and needs some serious work.  swim

How fucking hard can it be to do this. Even when your scared of water……….

Im not letting it beat me.  Onwards and upwards.

Talk soon,

BN x