The watch still works (except the altitude) and is missing a button.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
C'est la fin...
The watch still works (except the altitude) and is missing a button.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Triathlon de Versailles (Sprint)
Un p’tit peu de contexte
- Mal au genou depuis la mi-mars : quasiment pas de vélo et du coup, pas vraiment le moral (sportif)
- 2 ou 3 sorties vélo dans les jours qui précèdent la course
- Course à pieds et natation a priori ok, mais manque encore de volume d’entrainement
- Enfin, cette 2nd course de la saison est surtout mon premier tri Sprint, la moitié du distance Olympique, 1/8 d’un Ironman.
- Météo idéale, 20°C à 25°C, soleil, un peu de vent
Rappel :
- sprint : 750m / 20 km / 5 km (ici 22km)
- olympique : 1500m / 40km / 10 km
- Semi IM : 1900m / 90km / 21km
- IM : 3800m / 180km / 42km
La natation
Ils avaient dit « Ne pas mettre les pieds au fond» dans la pièce d’eau des Suisses… Ce plan d’eau à proximité du château de Versailles fait souvent office de benne de recyclage de verre (bouteille, tesson de verre, …).
Dans les faits, l’eau est très claire, et à bonne température (19°C).Très claire, tant que l’on ne touchait pas la vase au fond (~1,5m de profondeur). Là, ça devenait de suite opaque.
Mise à l’eau dans la bonne humeur. Plein de clubs avec leur équipe première, composée de « petits jeunes », affûtés comme des couteaux. Ca va envoyer grave.
On tente de se mettre en ligne entre les 2 bouées, ligne pas droite du tout en fait, les kayakistes tentent de nous faire reculer, mais les « plus malins » font nage arrière, tout, tout doucement. On y est presque, presque alignés, attention, ça va partir… ça va partir…
Et donc, la « ligne » r-avance, je suis au second rang. Tout le monde fait le chien pour glisser sournoisement vers l’avant. Mais que fait l’arbitre ? Ca glisse, ça gueule, et c’est parti, sans bang ! Le chrono, top, déclenché.
C’est un tri sprint, alors ça part au sprint : les jambes à donf, je tente de passer les 2 gars devant moi en suivant les bulles (éviter de faire la navigation). L’idée est de sortir du paquet et suivre le peloton (2 ou 3 gars normalement) tranquillement. Je ne pense pas pouvoir sortir en tête, mais dans le lot de tête…
Ben, pour le moment, ça latte (du verbe latter, ou prendre des coups de tous les cotés, sur toutes les parties du corps). Des sardines en boite, qui tente d’en sortir, voilà ce que c’est ! Un gars sous chaque aisselle, et un autre qui appuie sur les pieds (vers le fond). Ca me fatigue ça ! Battements plus fort…
Au bout de 200m, je me rends compte que l’allure est hyper rapide : je ne serai pas dans le lot de tête (la honte) et n’y reviendrai pas. Il faut que je trouve de l’espace car ça fatigue (au propre, comme au figuré). Et puis, ça me stresse d’être les uns sur les autres comme cela.
Pour améliorer la situation, l’arrivée sur la première bouée (virage à gauche) resserre les rangs.
Heureusement, en terme d’effort, je ne suis pas au rupteur. Mais les coups, les tirages de pieds, le gars à droite qui vient me percuter tous les 5 coups de bras commencent à m’user.
La bouée arrive et c’est le bins. Plus d’espace pour nager. Panique !!! Encore des coups. Le gars à droite me gave, gravement. Assez. Je m’arrête, mets la main sur ses cotes et le pousse vers l’extérieur fortement. Sans taper… mais vigoureusement. De l’espace ! Il me faut de l’espace. Pas plus calmé qu’avant le passage de la bouée, je passe en dos, en direction de la 2nd bouée. De l’air et le ciel bleu… : )
Et puis je ne me fais pas dépasser (ça doit dégouter les voisins, j’aime ça).
Je repasse sur le ventre. La 2nd bouée arrive rapidement et on se ressert les coudes. Moins en panique, je vire et bascule à nouveau sur le dos pour mieux respirer et virer de bord plus rapidement.
En route vers la 3ieme bouée et le dernier virage. C’est un longue ligne droite, et maintenant, enfin, je trouve de l’espace. Je peux m’efforcer à respirer tous les 3 temps, sereinement.
Encore une belle mêlée pour virer de bord et un petit morceau pour rejoindre la sortie. Les leaders ne sont pas si loin que cela finalement, mais je ne suis pas avec eux : leçon d’humilité !
Je remets des jambes pour y activer la circulation sanguine, avant de courir vers le vélo. On est trois de front maintenant pour rejoindre la sortie, je m’efforce de nager jusqu’au bout, mets un pied, 2 pieds par terre… et me redresse (rah, c’est dur).
Je profite d’un volontaire pour m’aider à me lancer sur le plat. Pfff, c’est dur de lancer la machine. Je relève, sans les ôter les lunettes (pour ne pas les perdre et ne pas les avoir dans les mains), et commence à tenter d’enlever le haut de la combi (j’avais eu qq soucis à Port Vendre).
- la ficelle, elle est où ? Ah, c’est bon. J’enlève la sécurité et ouvre.
- ALLEZ DAVID – oui, merci… pas le temps de voir qui c’était- L’épaule, il faut sortir une épaule (tout en courant, toujours). Ca, … ça vient.
- L’autre épaule ? Rhhh, ça coince (et ça double pendant ce temps). Allez, je démoule la seconde épaule.
- Le bras droit (je cours), hop, c’est fait.
- ALLEZ DAVID – c’est Claudio, du club.
- Le bras gauche, hop, ça coince (je cours). C’est la montre. RRR, et hop, c’est sorti.
- Je cours, le buste libre.
- Il est où le vélo ? Le parc à vélo est tout en longueur, le vélo est après le portail (repérage fait AVANT la course)
- J’y arrive (ça double encore : comment font-ils pour courir ainsi ?), je retrouve mon tapis de sol, rouge, pour que je puisse repérer le vélo rapidos.
- Allez, je m’assois pour finir le démoulage des jambes.
- Hop, et hop, en force, c’est fait
- Le casque, les lunettes, le kit réparation que je n’arrive pas à mettre dans le maillot mouillé : perte de temps !!
- C’est bon, je prends le vélo, la ceinture est déjà en place : elle était déjà sous la combi.
- Et c’est reparti pour un peu de course à pieds.
Heureusement que je suis parmi les premiers en natation, j’arrive à rejoindre la sortie sans trop de problème. Des « Pardon », « Excusez-moi » pour prévenir de mon passage à ceux, pliés en deux, qui enlèvent encore la combi devant leur vélo…
Sortie du parc, on est en montée : j’avais mis le vélo sur petit plateau, gros pignon. Ca doit partir. Je monte sur le vélo, pour les pieds sur les chaussures et commence à pédaler. Je chausse un pieds, pédale, évite un gars qui « cale » au chaussage, chausse l’autre, pédale, tjs en montée, sers une chaussure, pédale, l’autre chaussure. C’est bon pour moi.
Cependant, je note que certains roulent encore avec les pieds sur les chaussures : ils feront ainsi jusque sur le plat, un peu plus loin. J’aurais pu / dû faire cela… Pas grave.
L’important maintenant est de rester au contact jusqu’à la fin de la montée. Après je pourrai profiter pleinement du drafting.
Quelques virages pour rejoindre une première ligne droite, je suis décroché du petit groupe. Il faut que je recolle. (si Alain était là, aïe, aïe,…). Je bourrine et reviens sur un gaillard de Poissy. De suite, c’est la bonheur : beaucoup moins dur.
Nous rejoignons la piste de PSA où nous devrons couvrir 2 tours. D’après le plan, ça zigzague dans tous les sens.
La piste n’a pas un bon revêtement, loin s’en faut. Notre groupe rattrape un peloton. On se cherche un peu, on passe, on passe pas… Finalement, personne ne fait d’échappée mais le rythme est bon. Surtout ne pas se faire décrocher, c’est l’objectif.
Je ne suis pas hyper à l’aise car ça fait un bail que je n’ai pas roulé en troupeau… heu, peloton.
Longue ligne droite : que du bonheur, à l’abris.
½ tour : je perds un peu, mais reviens à la roue.
Re-ligne droite : trop bien.
La piste n’est vraiment pas terrible par endroit. Des raccordements de 5cm, ou fissures du même ordre. Le gars devant moi prend un trou de la sorte, sa roue se déforme gravement, mais ça roule. Impressionnant la capacité d’absorption. Je crains la crevaison. Mais tout va bien, ouf.
Re-1/2 tour, je colle mieux. Ca tourne pour prendre les relais. Je ne peux être devant ou que très peu. Pas de puissance, et pas très envie de brûler des cartouches vu que je suis sous-entraîné.
Encore des mauvais passages sur la piste. Le vélo bouge bizarre. Ai-je crevé ? Avant, non, arrière, non. Ce doit être dans la tête…
Re-bosses, et re-problème de stabilité vélo. Je regarde les attache-rapides (ce qui serre les roues). Aie, l’arrière est desserré ! Ma roue peut se désolidariser du vélo : obligé de m’arrêter !
Je me glisse vers l’extérieur, et freine. Arrêt complet sur le bas coté, je perds le peloton… Je ressers tant bien que mal. Et je repars. Seul, au vent.
Les boules.
Bon, je me baisse au maximum pour prendre le moins de vent, et prends mon mal en patience : je sauterai dans les roues du prochain groupe. Et heureusement, il ne tarde pas à arriver. Ouf.
C’est reparti, re-virage, bien négocié. Je suis plus serein. Toujours dans le premier tour, que je continue de découvrir… On arrive sur des PAVES ! Heureusement, ils sont peu « agressifs ». Ca vire, ça monte et ça descend… Le groupe s’étire. Une belle bosse, et hop, c’est passé.
Une seconde, … bru-ta-le… argh, je mouline, je monte sur les pédales… Ca bloque… le groupe file, je me fais déposer. Les crocs.
Je retrouve le plat, et la solitude.
Pas grave, je remouline, je reprendrai le prochain wagon.
Juste, le « wagon » me revient dessus dans la ligne droite suivante. Ca roule, bien et plus fort qu’avant. Ils sont motivés les p’tits gars. Ils veulent revenir sur le groupe qui m’a lâché… Trop bien.
Je boucle avec eux le premier tour. Les courbes & virages sont beaucoup mieux pour moi. A l’abri, l’allure est bonne, le genou tient le coup, la vie est belle !
Je ne peux néanmoins prendre de relais, même pour un court instant, je n’ai toujours pas de puissance. Peu importe, je reste dans le lot, et colle bien après chaque virage serré. Bientôt, le retour vers les pavets puis la fameuses côte, où je me suis fait déposer tout à l’heure. Pas cette fois, je vais m’y préparer.
Mais que se passe-t-il ? NON !!
Rebelote.
Ma roue arrière s’est desserrée – j’y crois pas. Je continue ? Non, trop risqué.
Je sors du peloton, m’arrête, ressert l’attache rapide, comme une mule, et repars, seul. J’ai même du mal à remettre les pieds dans les cales, rhhh, je perds du temps.
Je repars, en cadence, pas de groupe derrière, visible. Les crocs.
Je tente d’optimiser les courbes malgré les gens que je double. Certains doivent faire leur premier tri, en VTT… ou tranquillement…
Du coup, je me fais les 2 murs sans problème cette fois-ci. Doubler me motive malgré les 2 problèmes rencontrés sur le parcours.
J’en termine avec le second tour, c’est le retour au bercail. Passage par Satory, et juste avant de redescendre vers la pièce d’eau, je me fais rattraper (enfin !) par un petit groupe. Dommage que ce soit si tard.
Oops, une fille ! Je me fais « chicked », comme on dit en anglais (se faire doubler par une fille). Ha… c’est la vie.
On tourne, on arrive dans la grande descente. Je desserre mes chaussures, entre 2 virages, en enlève une, virage, autre chaussure, je pédale avec les pieds sur les chaussures.
La transition… je n’ai pas répété… A savoir descendre du vélo en courant. C’est un peu acrobatique et avec mes gamelles (sans faire cela), je préfère faire un arrêt complet PUIS descendre du vélo. Pas les 2 en même temps.
Du coup, je suis le dernier du petit groupe. Pas grave.
On file en descente, sur le tapis, pieds nus, le vélo à la main et le casque, toujours sur la tête. Je reviens sur mon prédécesseur, pas la place pour doubler. Patience.
Allez David, c’est Ludo & Vincent (je crois)Pierre filme.
Demi-tour en bas du parking à vélo, et on remonte, toujours en courant, toujours le vélo à la main. Je repère le tapis rouge.
Le vélo, garé, le casque enlevé (un classique que de voir quelqu’un partir en course à pieds avec le casque…), pas de casquette, c’est ombragé. C’est reparti On va voir si je retrouve mes jambes.
Pas facile de relancer la machine en cote, allez, je rattrape une fille (tiens, je l’avais pas remarqué elle). Elle se remet la queue de cheval en reprenant le pas de course. Dis-donc, elle est vachement costaud comme fille : c’est un gars !
On part rejoindre le bord de la pièce d’eau. 2 tours, 1 tour « histoire de » (au train) et le second, on lâchera ce qu’il restera.
Encore le sentiment d’être bloqué en première (comme à Port Vendre), ou allez, en 2nde. Je me fais doubler, souvent. Enfin, focus sur le tempo, la technique, et tout et tout…
Ca descend, tout va bien. C’est plat, tout va bien (tout doucement). Je me fais doubler par une fille, impossible à suivre…
Ca commence à monter, après ½ tour, et rien. Impossible de faire la différence. Je vais aussi lentement que les copains autour de moi. C’est même dur, d’autant que le sol devient sablonneux, pas cool. Il commence à faire soif quand je prends un morceau de ficelle (il en faut 2 pour avoir le droit de faire le ½ tour après la descente pour rejoindre l’arrivée). Tiens, d’ailleurs, je n’ai pas remarqué où est ce point ?
Descente, de suite ça va mieux ! Et mieux que les autres, je commence à rattraper un peu de monde.
Cela augmente d’ailleurs avec les gens qui commencent leur premier tour. Ca donne vraiment du baume au cœur. J’arrive à ¼ du second tour quand je me fais doubler par un grand gaillard. Autant, ceux avant, comme Christophe ou Raph’ du club, sont plus jeunes, autant cela me semble de ma génération… Orgueil !!!
Je m’accroche. Et ça tient. Il me reste ¾ tour + le retour vers l’arrivée. On reprend du monde, je suis finalement à l’aise, dans sa foulée. Hmm, il doit prendre un coup de bambou, je passe. Je double encore mais derrière ça revient, un jeune, suivi par mon gaillard. Mince. On va s’en mettre une bonne.
On arrive à ½ tour et on attaque la montée (très légère) et le sable. Je double et… il me redouble. Ok mon gars !
La pente s’accentue maintenant, j’enlève les protections anti-douleurs (c’est une image !) et je tape dedans : à fond les ballons, dans la montée. Je double, je double (ça donne l’impression d’aller vite, c’est bien). Et comme les coureurs ont leur bout de ficelle autour du coup, j’arrive à voir ceux qui, comme moi, vont vers le finish.
Je ne me retourne pas mais j’aimerai bien savoir si je l’ai effectivement décroché.
Je récupère mon second collier, et repère 3 gars qui viennent de faire de même. Un gars du CNP dans le lot. Il a certainement dû me doubler peu avant.
C’est la descente. J’enlève le frein moteur et pousse de l’avant : pas facile, il ne reste plus grand-chose dans le réservoir. J’en double 2 sur les 3, et rejoins le 3ieme. C’est plat maintenant et je crains ne pas pouvoir le doubler franchement.
Je décide d’attendre le ½ tour avant le sprint (100 ou 200m). On est un peu gêné (on s’en remettra) par d’autres concurrences. Je ne sais pas s’il sait que je suis en embuscade…
Le ½ tour, je décide de prendre la corde juste derrière lui, m’accroche même au volontaire qui fait la « navigation » : ceux qui ont fait 2 tours peuvent tourner. Mon ami a pris large et relance pas : il est cuit.
Encore 2 ou 3 autres gars devant, dont 1 qui boite… Pas de pitié. Je sprinte, avec tout ce que j’ai, au cas où ça revienne de derrière. Je double au passage ces messieurs sur la ligne droite finale. Ca fait 6 ou 7 places gagnées dans le dernier kilomètre. Grandes foulées, les jambes hurlent de douleur, plus d’air ! La ligne !
Il fallait que ça se termine… Bravo aux gars que je viens de passer, et je retrouve les gazelles du club, Christophe et Raphaël. Ils allaient vraiment trop vite pour moi, bravo.
Satisfait de l’effort & du finish (mieux qu’à Port Vendre)!
Pas de la natation, je suis en fait sorti 22ieme ! Ca fait 20 de trop !
Vraiment comme un bleu pour le vélo, j’aurai dû vérifier à 2 fois le serrage des roues…
Et malgré un premier tour moyen, je pu débrider le système sur la fin de la course à pieds.
Avec le recul, les temps ne sont pas terribles. Mais on ne peut espérer guère mieux avec si peu d’entrainement.
Va falloir commencer à s’occuper, en particulier du vélo : semi Ironman à Vendôme dans un 15 jours, puis l’Ironman 1 mois plus tard. Ca arrive trop vite.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Up-date / En attendant...
En attendant la traduction officielle du récit de Port-Vendre (dispo in English ci-dessous), voilà la courbe du rythme cardiaque (courbe rouge). Ca monte, ça monte! ; )
While I work on the French translation of the Port Vendre Triathlon, here is the Heart Rate (HR) curve, in red. Goes up, and up at the end of the run...
And today's run session: painful!! Not use to push it anymore. It was a VERY long 1km! Need to work on the abs and stuff. Pleased with the 2km, not so much with the 1km. But the effort & HR were there (174 max: that's a personnal best!!).
La session du jour en course à pieds (tjs pas de vélo pour l'instant).
C'était douloureux!!! => Ca faisait longtemps que je n'avais pas souffert autant (et il va falloir y retourner).
Autant je suis satisfait du 2km, autant le 1km n'est pas terrible (temps). Mais l'important c'est l'effort et le rythme cardiaque: 174 en pic. C'est un record perso!
Monday, April 18, 2011
Triathlon de la Côte Rocheuse
1,5 km swim – 18’26 (1'14 par 100m), 3rd, 151 bpm average, 161 bpm max
2mn T1 – crapy, couldn’t get the wetsuit off
42km hilly bike – 1’25'30, passed many times (30.9km/h)!, 146 bpm average, 160 bpm max
1’25 T2 – better, put socks for once
8.5km hilly course, got passed more than I passed… 37'04 (13.8km/hr), 157 bpm average, 167 bpm max
Context
13 weeks to go to IM distance in Roth… But already 4 weeks with a painful knee (tendinitis): almost no bike since then. Needless to say that this is not appropriate training.
The goal was simply to go and have fun, checking if the knee would hold on after 10 day rest.
We arrived in the area Friday morning and I took the opportunity to swim in the sea (no knee strain). That work-out didn’t last too long! The water was SO cold that I had brain freeze when I put my head down, in the water.
Got a scuba diving hat (neoprene) right after!
And did a mini ride to test both the knee & the time trial bike… I was hesitating on the bile for this race. The knee was fine during the ride, but sore later in the day. And upon Sullivan’s advice, I selected the road bike: haven’t ridden enough on the TT to be comfortable.
The race.
Got the bib, hat, and stuff and off to T1 to prepare the gear. The speaker explains:
- wetsuit are NOT optional, but MANDATORY today: 15° Celsius. Yeap, that’s cold!
- Stairs! Right out of T2. To warm the legs up he said, funny guy, I tell you.
Air temperature is to raise from the current 10°C to about 20°C, with blue sky and little to no wind.
The swim is to start at one end, passes 2 buoys & ends at the other end of the port, to be in T1. I didn’t have time to check the details, and we couldn’t see the buoys’ location before hand (not visible from the startline).
After walking from T1 to the starting point, I get ready: I put for the first time a neoprene cap. It is meant for scuba diving so I “customized” it by cutting pieces off: don’t want to have brain freeze or to swim water polo for 1500m.
False start confirmed. We start boo-ing the “cheaters”. Just for fun.
It was a good thing there was a false start, I forgot to start the watch.
And here we go again. Squeeze everybody behind… squeeze, wait, squeeze,… I start the watch. Wait…BANG!
I jump in somebody’s feet, check on the right. All clear. But on the left, it’s a riot. And behind it’s a riot too. Every 2 strokes, someone touches my feet! And now it’s squeeze time, shoulder to shoulder as we move forward, and turn to the left. Never being in so much “hugs” at a start. Plus, some guys are hitting it off hard, so I turn into sprint mode: the kicking engine (the legs) in the back…
I move to the second place, after pushing whom ever I need to and try to relax (legs off). Boy, the pace is fast.
I’m not doing any navigation, but I’m breathing every 2 strokes, if not every stroke. Pace and the water temperature make me hyper-ventilate. Need to calm down. I force a few breath every 3. Better.
Where is that 1st buoy? We couldn’t see it from the start, hidden by the curvature of the shore. It seems awfully long. I’m not gonna be able to keep that pace that long: I’m pushing it, suffering a little and my mind is going to the wrong place!
Again, breath 3, calm down (better stroke) and stay in the feet.
The guy behind me seems “Genki”, touching me once in a while…
First turn, at last! I’m second, in a 3 man group. Next turn, and we’ll have the longest stretch, to the finish.
Again, I’m struggling to stay in touch. The pace is fast. I do look now the next buoy, impatient to be done with the swim. My abs are burning, and I can’t picture myself putting some legs on to prepare to T1: again, dark thoughts. Stay with me here, keep it together!
Turn again. Pace seems better now. All is fine. But I’m less attentive to the feet tracking and lose the guy a couple of time. I get back into it but it’s demanding. And as I suspected the #3 guy is feeling the moment, he charges to pass. Fine by me.
No swimming in the last 10 days doesn’t make me comfortable enough to fight it off. Plus I have a severe bike ride ahead of me. So I stay in the feet of the leader, not intending switch man.
He passes me and they swim side by side. But again I mess up the feet navigation, drifting away (side way) from the bubbles. I get back into it. And again… after a while I just get unhooked. I see now the finish chute: that’s fine. I let them go: better breathing, start some kicking. I’m cooked anyway.
At least the navigation to the exit is easy with the 2 guy a few meters away… I reach the ladder, boy it’s hard to extract yourself from the water.
My parents & kids are there cheering. My dad, a very sensitive man, “what’s up with that? I don’t recognize you there”… expecting me to exit in the lead…
The speaker announces that it was a sub 18mn (rats, I forgot the swim split on the watch): that makes me even more tired all of the sudden.
I’m struggling with the wetsuit as I run to the bike. Can’t open it, can’t pull it down (shoulders), right arm is stuck, left leg is stuck… Raaaah, at last! Glasses, helmet, food, tool, belt… Run, Forest, Run! I take the bike and off I go.
After 400m, we start the first climb. And people start ZOOMING by. I reach happily the top of the first one, expecting another big climb on the way to the U-turn, right at the Spanish border… Well, there are more than 1! I check the heart rate: over 150 bpm… Ouch! Need to manage the effort: I need to be able to come BACK to T2.
And now I realize that I didn’t ride enough recently: people also zoom by in the down hill. I’m glad Alain is not around. Man I suck in the turns!
But do note that we’re not suppose to cut the turns as the road is still open to traffic, both ways. If you’re caught cutting a turn, it’s a DQ. Well, I justify my poor skills the way I can.
So far so good. Back down to the next city, Banyuls, famous for its cooked wine, and up again! Zoom, zoom… Still. I talk to some of them, when they spend a little time to pass.
The sight is great! The sea, the hills, no wind, blue sky. Raah, I forgot to put sun screen!
There are Sunday cyclists as well. Alone or in groups. Pretty neat, they cheer up, we chat.
A referee is parked for now on the side of the road. “Where”s the beer?” I ask him. “If only!” he replies. That’s the spirit!
And now the turn-around point, well that’s what I thought. I thought the old customs office was in the next village, Cerbere: I could visualize it.
And up we go, this one wasn’t too steep, just long. Zoom-zoom again. But not as fast now. The road is crapy as we go into town. Braking, braking (thinking of Alain)… And then I remember, it’s not in town! The turn-around is WAY up, one more climb. Boy, do I want to turn around now! Because I figured that the slopes are steeper on the way back…
So off I go, one more long climb. But I keep a small bracket, spin the legs. All is fine. I’m actually quite pleased with myself. I feared to be stuck in the smallest gear, and being able to move it up. I’m spinning, I’m spinning… happily…
I see the end of it, especially since I start coming across the guys whom already made their U turn.
Here is, at last, the old customs office, where they use to check passports. I make the turn around right before it. Here you can get a water or sport drink bottle. Nan, I don’t need it. Still have water, and I’m halfway through my gel, taking some in the descents.
Back to Cerbere, I try to push it more in the down hill - lots of spinning & more aggressive turns (from Grand-Pa’s turn to Daddy’s turn… nothing outrageous). Passing is now seldom, and slow for the most part. But now we have some wind facing us.
After Cerbere, the hill is steep at first, and then mild but long. And look what’s happening: I’m catching up some of the wacky bikers. Sissy guys!
And back down. Stuck behind a car… Some riders pass in spite of the incoming cars: that’s wacky! I pass it finaly in the descent towards Banyuls. The guy in front of me almost hit a pedestrian… And into the last climb. I’m feeling great. The knee? I’m not even thinking about it. Spinning, spinning… Feeling the wind, still.
It’s a 3 stage climb: steep, (small down hill) mild, steep. I now ride “with” a couple of guys: they pass me on flats & down hills. I catch them up on the up hill.
There is the young big-gear Cedric, and the old skinny Alain from Agen. I take a lot of pleasure passing them on the last steep ascent (boy it’s a steep one). I try not to work / power it too much. Just stick to the spinning plan. I still gotta deliver on the run. Paul said to cut it in thirds (med, fast, all out, or something like that). And I felt descent recently on the runs…
Down to T2, yeah! Big gear, yeah. Alain still manages to pass me, not yeah! But that’s ok, Alain is cool, not Cedric! ; )
They had mentioned stairs right out of T2, and I was ready to head to the ones just across from the bike park, gnarly ones. But no, volunteers point to run the other way. Cool.
Well, 100m later, sharp turn to a uneven flight of stairs… Short, long, but at least not too high. Baby step mode! Passed a guy (he he he).
Reached a gravel road (that’s why we had to use the stairs: constructions). A couple guys flew by. Hmmm, not yet…
The “plan” was to run easy to the bottom of the climb, then hit it (mild +) for the climb (climb w/a trick: you see the end of it, and once you get there, there is MORE: we drove it a couple days ago). Then down hill to the light house for the U turn, push it hard, down the hill medium, and HARD finish on the flat… That’s the plan.
Tempo is fine as I reach the water table at the bottom of the hill. Sunny, no wind, it’s good.
Up the hill, a guy passes. Alright, let’s do it. In his steps. Up, it’s fine. Getting steeper. He slows down, come on! I passed him, and his long white socks… Feeling good, not too hard, it’s moving along good.
Catching thump run guy: flop at each step, man, he’s loud! Not as steep now but I can’t gear up, kinda stuck in the climbing gear. Staying with thump-thump and white socks is coming back. Actually passing us. Hmm (2).
Need to move. I go with him. Into the red zone.
Note for the reader: there was no real change of pace, more a feel: I was pretty much cooked, stucked in gear 1…
Thump-thump drifts back (can’t hear him), but half way up I have to admit that I have to let white socks go. He’s too much for me, today.
I reach and pass Alain (rider). He’s enjoying the day too.
I reach the peak, starting gently down, before whining down the steep road. I start moving better now, dropping people around.
In the steep area however I don’t feel so comfortable: I can’t let it loose and roll down as I could.
Reaching the turn around, yeah! Need to go the light house, NOOOOO!
There is 50m, only, but it must be 15% up. No big deal, I’m feeling good, I gear down (small steps) and up I go.
25m, fine.
30m, oh oh…
35m, massive tightness behind the legs, Argh… keep moving, keep moving
40m, very tight, please don’t cramp (don’t want to walk ALL the way back)
45m, it’s passing
50m, heart is fine but, boy, I have a grapefruit behind each leg now.
Around the light house, water (took a ½ gel in the down hill) – water is good!
And back I go. Under 20mn run so far. Good, I can do a sub 40mn (not 10km, remember, don’t go crazy).
Gently down the steep 50m to avoid cramping. It’s fine.
But now, I’m suppose to let it go in this steep portion, before the long down hill. But there is nothing here… Empty tank. 1st gear again.
It’s tough but 3 positive notes:
- no one passes me
- no bad thoughts (cf. swimming portion)
- came across the first girl, she’s about 3 or 4mn back: I think I’m safe from being “chicked” today.
Reach the “summit” and it’s all down hill from here. I need to save some for the flat, want to nail it there.
So I open up the gear, let it roll better. Meanwhile I hear a pack of horses or something catching up with me. Olivier runs by me, and I recognize the familiar thump-thump: HE’s back! 3 or 4 guys, I don’t know. We’re rolling down pretty good and I’m in the front of the pack. I don’t like that at all. I don’t like setting the pace. Olivier does it sometimes (many people – other athletes – still going up) cheer him up. Yeah, yeah, it’s Olivier alright…
Should I drift back into the pack and let them burn themselves? Still in the group lead… Thinking, thinking.
We are 2/3rd down the hill, I’m preparing to hurt on the flat: it’s gonna be the house of pain. But a wacky Spaniard flies by. I jump in his steps. The hell with the plan!
I surge & follow him a little. He’s WAY too fast. But it did the trick, Olivier & thump-thump are off the hook.
I don’t look back, keeping pressure to move it.
Onto the flat portion, about 6 mn to go (I looked how long it too me to get there from T2). Piece of cake! Yeah, right…
Man, flat hurts, too! Especially, when it’s slightly up hill. Good form, I must keep. Tempo I must increase.
Can’t tell where it hurts, it just does!
Then it’s up-hil to the gravel road and back to the stairs. So I stick to what’s left of the plan, give it all in that final up-hill. And I hear from people cheering that someone is not far behind. Need to drop him!
Up I go, nothing in the tank, good form, relaxed shoulders, pushing hard, … I reach the top, dead. And he’s still right behind me.
It’s a long straight line to the gravel road, that’s when Olivier makes his move. I’m done. He puts 20m on me, rhhhh. And now, 2nd wind, I start moving, closing slightly the gap. But the legs aren’t really there. Can I pass him in the stairs (dangerous)?
People are going up (starting their run), we’re flying down. The center rail blocks us, to the left, to the right, I don’t know where I should go. Down, Olivier is too far now.
To the road, at last, to the finish, take the glasses off for the picture.
Congratulations to Olivier, thump-thump, a little back, and Alain, further down.
Covered with salt (sea & sweat), we enjoy the drink & food. Olivier is preparing Nice IM.
Boy, it’s hard when you’re not training at full speed. Need to fix that knee quick to resume training, especially bike training. The run wasn’t great but I’m not far off whereas the swimming, well, I just have to get my sorry bottom in the pool more often.
David, happy triathlete
2mn T1 – crapy, couldn’t get the wetsuit off
42km hilly bike – 1’25'30, passed many times (30.9km/h)!, 146 bpm average, 160 bpm max
1’25 T2 – better, put socks for once
8.5km hilly course, got passed more than I passed… 37'04 (13.8km/hr), 157 bpm average, 167 bpm max
Context
13 weeks to go to IM distance in Roth… But already 4 weeks with a painful knee (tendinitis): almost no bike since then. Needless to say that this is not appropriate training.
The goal was simply to go and have fun, checking if the knee would hold on after 10 day rest.
We arrived in the area Friday morning and I took the opportunity to swim in the sea (no knee strain). That work-out didn’t last too long! The water was SO cold that I had brain freeze when I put my head down, in the water.
Got a scuba diving hat (neoprene) right after!
And did a mini ride to test both the knee & the time trial bike… I was hesitating on the bile for this race. The knee was fine during the ride, but sore later in the day. And upon Sullivan’s advice, I selected the road bike: haven’t ridden enough on the TT to be comfortable.
The race.
Got the bib, hat, and stuff and off to T1 to prepare the gear. The speaker explains:
- wetsuit are NOT optional, but MANDATORY today: 15° Celsius. Yeap, that’s cold!
- Stairs! Right out of T2. To warm the legs up he said, funny guy, I tell you.
Air temperature is to raise from the current 10°C to about 20°C, with blue sky and little to no wind.
The swim is to start at one end, passes 2 buoys & ends at the other end of the port, to be in T1. I didn’t have time to check the details, and we couldn’t see the buoys’ location before hand (not visible from the startline).
After walking from T1 to the starting point, I get ready: I put for the first time a neoprene cap. It is meant for scuba diving so I “customized” it by cutting pieces off: don’t want to have brain freeze or to swim water polo for 1500m.
I get in, goof around to warm-up, the “helmet” is working, I can put my head in the water. And finaly get back to the start line, in the front. Some people aren’t coming back behind the rope… so the start isn’t coming. The referee is waving to move back, and the speaker starts the count down (people still not behind the line) – Three… Two… and here they go! No gun but a bunch of guys took off. I didn’t, now hoping that they’ll do their job: stop them. The kayak guy is doing it, almost hitting the guys to stop them! ; )
 |
| With the beard, and neopren hat going under the chin... Did you find Waldo yet? |
It was a good thing there was a false start, I forgot to start the watch.
And here we go again. Squeeze everybody behind… squeeze, wait, squeeze,… I start the watch. Wait…BANG!
I jump in somebody’s feet, check on the right. All clear. But on the left, it’s a riot. And behind it’s a riot too. Every 2 strokes, someone touches my feet! And now it’s squeeze time, shoulder to shoulder as we move forward, and turn to the left. Never being in so much “hugs” at a start. Plus, some guys are hitting it off hard, so I turn into sprint mode: the kicking engine (the legs) in the back…
I move to the second place, after pushing whom ever I need to and try to relax (legs off). Boy, the pace is fast.
I’m not doing any navigation, but I’m breathing every 2 strokes, if not every stroke. Pace and the water temperature make me hyper-ventilate. Need to calm down. I force a few breath every 3. Better.
Where is that 1st buoy? We couldn’t see it from the start, hidden by the curvature of the shore. It seems awfully long. I’m not gonna be able to keep that pace that long: I’m pushing it, suffering a little and my mind is going to the wrong place!
Again, breath 3, calm down (better stroke) and stay in the feet.
The guy behind me seems “Genki”, touching me once in a while…
First turn, at last! I’m second, in a 3 man group. Next turn, and we’ll have the longest stretch, to the finish.
Again, I’m struggling to stay in touch. The pace is fast. I do look now the next buoy, impatient to be done with the swim. My abs are burning, and I can’t picture myself putting some legs on to prepare to T1: again, dark thoughts. Stay with me here, keep it together!
Turn again. Pace seems better now. All is fine. But I’m less attentive to the feet tracking and lose the guy a couple of time. I get back into it but it’s demanding. And as I suspected the #3 guy is feeling the moment, he charges to pass. Fine by me.
No swimming in the last 10 days doesn’t make me comfortable enough to fight it off. Plus I have a severe bike ride ahead of me. So I stay in the feet of the leader, not intending switch man.
He passes me and they swim side by side. But again I mess up the feet navigation, drifting away (side way) from the bubbles. I get back into it. And again… after a while I just get unhooked. I see now the finish chute: that’s fine. I let them go: better breathing, start some kicking. I’m cooked anyway.
At least the navigation to the exit is easy with the 2 guy a few meters away… I reach the ladder, boy it’s hard to extract yourself from the water.My parents & kids are there cheering. My dad, a very sensitive man, “what’s up with that? I don’t recognize you there”… expecting me to exit in the lead…
The speaker announces that it was a sub 18mn (rats, I forgot the swim split on the watch): that makes me even more tired all of the sudden.
I’m struggling with the wetsuit as I run to the bike. Can’t open it, can’t pull it down (shoulders), right arm is stuck, left leg is stuck… Raaaah, at last! Glasses, helmet, food, tool, belt… Run, Forest, Run! I take the bike and off I go.
The bike is simple, up and down, left and right: ALL THE TIME (after checking on the map, it’s 42km, and no less than 1300m climb). But it’s gorgeous. But not a David type of ride. I chose the Cannondale: the road bike.
After 400m, we start the first climb. And people start ZOOMING by. I reach happily the top of the first one, expecting another big climb on the way to the U-turn, right at the Spanish border… Well, there are more than 1! I check the heart rate: over 150 bpm… Ouch! Need to manage the effort: I need to be able to come BACK to T2.
And now I realize that I didn’t ride enough recently: people also zoom by in the down hill. I’m glad Alain is not around. Man I suck in the turns!
But do note that we’re not suppose to cut the turns as the road is still open to traffic, both ways. If you’re caught cutting a turn, it’s a DQ. Well, I justify my poor skills the way I can.
So far so good. Back down to the next city, Banyuls, famous for its cooked wine, and up again! Zoom, zoom… Still. I talk to some of them, when they spend a little time to pass.
The sight is great! The sea, the hills, no wind, blue sky. Raah, I forgot to put sun screen!
There are Sunday cyclists as well. Alone or in groups. Pretty neat, they cheer up, we chat.
A referee is parked for now on the side of the road. “Where”s the beer?” I ask him. “If only!” he replies. That’s the spirit!
And now the turn-around point, well that’s what I thought. I thought the old customs office was in the next village, Cerbere: I could visualize it.
And up we go, this one wasn’t too steep, just long. Zoom-zoom again. But not as fast now. The road is crapy as we go into town. Braking, braking (thinking of Alain)… And then I remember, it’s not in town! The turn-around is WAY up, one more climb. Boy, do I want to turn around now! Because I figured that the slopes are steeper on the way back…
So off I go, one more long climb. But I keep a small bracket, spin the legs. All is fine. I’m actually quite pleased with myself. I feared to be stuck in the smallest gear, and being able to move it up. I’m spinning, I’m spinning… happily…
I see the end of it, especially since I start coming across the guys whom already made their U turn.
Here is, at last, the old customs office, where they use to check passports. I make the turn around right before it. Here you can get a water or sport drink bottle. Nan, I don’t need it. Still have water, and I’m halfway through my gel, taking some in the descents.
Back to Cerbere, I try to push it more in the down hill - lots of spinning & more aggressive turns (from Grand-Pa’s turn to Daddy’s turn… nothing outrageous). Passing is now seldom, and slow for the most part. But now we have some wind facing us.
After Cerbere, the hill is steep at first, and then mild but long. And look what’s happening: I’m catching up some of the wacky bikers. Sissy guys!
And back down. Stuck behind a car… Some riders pass in spite of the incoming cars: that’s wacky! I pass it finaly in the descent towards Banyuls. The guy in front of me almost hit a pedestrian… And into the last climb. I’m feeling great. The knee? I’m not even thinking about it. Spinning, spinning… Feeling the wind, still.
It’s a 3 stage climb: steep, (small down hill) mild, steep. I now ride “with” a couple of guys: they pass me on flats & down hills. I catch them up on the up hill.
There is the young big-gear Cedric, and the old skinny Alain from Agen. I take a lot of pleasure passing them on the last steep ascent (boy it’s a steep one). I try not to work / power it too much. Just stick to the spinning plan. I still gotta deliver on the run. Paul said to cut it in thirds (med, fast, all out, or something like that). And I felt descent recently on the runs…
Down to T2, yeah! Big gear, yeah. Alain still manages to pass me, not yeah! But that’s ok, Alain is cool, not Cedric! ; )
Couple of turns in town and we’re there. Open the shoes, take ‘em off. Spinning, here we are. Off the bike. Family cheering: stick your tongue out! Yeap, it was tough.
Empty the pockets (didn’t eat anything solid, only a gel + water). Take the helmet off. No hat (don’t know what happened to it). Socks (yes, becoming precious) & shoes: I’m good to go. Out of T2.
They had mentioned stairs right out of T2, and I was ready to head to the ones just across from the bike park, gnarly ones. But no, volunteers point to run the other way. Cool.
Well, 100m later, sharp turn to a uneven flight of stairs… Short, long, but at least not too high. Baby step mode! Passed a guy (he he he).
Reached a gravel road (that’s why we had to use the stairs: constructions). A couple guys flew by. Hmmm, not yet…
The “plan” was to run easy to the bottom of the climb, then hit it (mild +) for the climb (climb w/a trick: you see the end of it, and once you get there, there is MORE: we drove it a couple days ago). Then down hill to the light house for the U turn, push it hard, down the hill medium, and HARD finish on the flat… That’s the plan.
Tempo is fine as I reach the water table at the bottom of the hill. Sunny, no wind, it’s good.
Up the hill, a guy passes. Alright, let’s do it. In his steps. Up, it’s fine. Getting steeper. He slows down, come on! I passed him, and his long white socks… Feeling good, not too hard, it’s moving along good.
Catching thump run guy: flop at each step, man, he’s loud! Not as steep now but I can’t gear up, kinda stuck in the climbing gear. Staying with thump-thump and white socks is coming back. Actually passing us. Hmm (2).
Need to move. I go with him. Into the red zone.
Note for the reader: there was no real change of pace, more a feel: I was pretty much cooked, stucked in gear 1…
Thump-thump drifts back (can’t hear him), but half way up I have to admit that I have to let white socks go. He’s too much for me, today.
I reach and pass Alain (rider). He’s enjoying the day too.
I reach the peak, starting gently down, before whining down the steep road. I start moving better now, dropping people around.
In the steep area however I don’t feel so comfortable: I can’t let it loose and roll down as I could.
Reaching the turn around, yeah! Need to go the light house, NOOOOO!
There is 50m, only, but it must be 15% up. No big deal, I’m feeling good, I gear down (small steps) and up I go.
25m, fine.
30m, oh oh…
35m, massive tightness behind the legs, Argh… keep moving, keep moving
40m, very tight, please don’t cramp (don’t want to walk ALL the way back)
45m, it’s passing
50m, heart is fine but, boy, I have a grapefruit behind each leg now.
Around the light house, water (took a ½ gel in the down hill) – water is good!
And back I go. Under 20mn run so far. Good, I can do a sub 40mn (not 10km, remember, don’t go crazy).
Gently down the steep 50m to avoid cramping. It’s fine.
But now, I’m suppose to let it go in this steep portion, before the long down hill. But there is nothing here… Empty tank. 1st gear again.
It’s tough but 3 positive notes:
- no one passes me
- no bad thoughts (cf. swimming portion)
- came across the first girl, she’s about 3 or 4mn back: I think I’m safe from being “chicked” today.
Reach the “summit” and it’s all down hill from here. I need to save some for the flat, want to nail it there.
So I open up the gear, let it roll better. Meanwhile I hear a pack of horses or something catching up with me. Olivier runs by me, and I recognize the familiar thump-thump: HE’s back! 3 or 4 guys, I don’t know. We’re rolling down pretty good and I’m in the front of the pack. I don’t like that at all. I don’t like setting the pace. Olivier does it sometimes (many people – other athletes – still going up) cheer him up. Yeah, yeah, it’s Olivier alright…
Should I drift back into the pack and let them burn themselves? Still in the group lead… Thinking, thinking.
We are 2/3rd down the hill, I’m preparing to hurt on the flat: it’s gonna be the house of pain. But a wacky Spaniard flies by. I jump in his steps. The hell with the plan!
I surge & follow him a little. He’s WAY too fast. But it did the trick, Olivier & thump-thump are off the hook.
I don’t look back, keeping pressure to move it.
Onto the flat portion, about 6 mn to go (I looked how long it too me to get there from T2). Piece of cake! Yeah, right…
Man, flat hurts, too! Especially, when it’s slightly up hill. Good form, I must keep. Tempo I must increase.
Can’t tell where it hurts, it just does!
Then it’s up-hil to the gravel road and back to the stairs. So I stick to what’s left of the plan, give it all in that final up-hill. And I hear from people cheering that someone is not far behind. Need to drop him!
Up I go, nothing in the tank, good form, relaxed shoulders, pushing hard, … I reach the top, dead. And he’s still right behind me.
It’s a long straight line to the gravel road, that’s when Olivier makes his move. I’m done. He puts 20m on me, rhhhh. And now, 2nd wind, I start moving, closing slightly the gap. But the legs aren’t really there. Can I pass him in the stairs (dangerous)?
People are going up (starting their run), we’re flying down. The center rail blocks us, to the left, to the right, I don’t know where I should go. Down, Olivier is too far now.
To the road, at last, to the finish, take the glasses off for the picture.
2’23'52. Family right after the finish.
Congratulations to Olivier, thump-thump, a little back, and Alain, further down.
Covered with salt (sea & sweat), we enjoy the drink & food. Olivier is preparing Nice IM.
Boy, it’s hard when you’re not training at full speed. Need to fix that knee quick to resume training, especially bike training. The run wasn’t great but I’m not far off whereas the swimming, well, I just have to get my sorry bottom in the pool more often.
David, happy triathlete
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Tomorrow / Demain: Triathlon de la Côte Rocheuse (Port Vendre)
Something like that... More straight I hope. They changed the swim course from last year. 2 loops because a single swim, finishing at a different location than the start. I guess it's better than last year (very messy water exit) but not as fun for the fans! Yeap, the kids will be stuck there for the morning!
Le parcours natation (tjs 1,5km) a évolué depuis l'an passé. Du pt A vers le pt B, sans faire 1 ou 2 boucles... Cela doit éviter le bazar à la sortie de l'eau comme l'an passé.
From Port-Vendre to Spain border, and back. Lovely ride (44km), very scenic but TERRIBLY HILLY (1000m climb)! That's gonna hurt, right off the swim.
Superbe parcours vélo, avec plein de "patates", comme disent les cyclistes... 200 ou 300m, c'est la longueur de la ligne droite PLATE la plus longue du parcours! Mais quelle vue pendant ces 44km!
Et la course à pieds n'est en reste, non plus. 9.4km pour faire l'aller-retour au phare. Là encore, la vue sera imprenable grâce au dénivelé que l'on doit s'avaler! Avec qq beaux murs. Heureusement, le début & la fin, c'est sur du plat.
To the light house & back, that's the run story (9.4km). Also very scenic route, because very hilly as well.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Complement
Sullivan a des lunettes - He's got glasses!
 |
| Guerlain got a a T-shirt, from his Amsterdam school trip - Guerlain est allé et est revenu d'Amsterdam. |
 |
| Cadeau d'anniversaire, en avance. C'est Bécassine. Sullivan's b-day present, she's called Bécassine. |
We met with one of Sandy's highschool friend, and his son. Pretty cool.
Gummy fait l'intéressant.
Concours de gateaux (fund raising cake baking contest): 1er ex eaco (tarte aux quetches sur lit de Speculos)...
Recycling according to Guerlain, during the Sakura (cherry tree) blossom in Paris...
Rattrapage - Catching up
J'ai zappé le blog depuis plusieurs semaines, pour ne pas dire plusieurs mois... Pas bien!
Quoi de neuf? Et bien, j'ai passé la barre des 40 ans, une paille. En tout cas, un excellent moment avec la famille et les amis.
So what's new since February (I haven't been rigorous about up-dating...)? Just a B-day. Oh, yeah, it was the 40th one... Great time with family & friends.
And I got to ride over Normandy cliffs (Etretat) in Alain's airplane, with the boys.
Petit cadeau: vol au dessus d'Etretat avec les garçons. Quel souvenir!
Ensuite, en mars, c'était les Frances de Natation Maître (des vieux, quoi). Amusant de se retrouver derrière un plot, tout rasé (les jambes, pas la tête!), à gérer certaines courses comme un débutant...
En tout cas, j'étais trop content pour Olivier, et très fier de lui: il a décroché sa première médaille (argent) au championnants de France des Maîtres. Le boulot paye...
This is Olivier, after his first medal at Masters swimming Nationals. Very happy to be there to witness this well deserved result. And proud too!
Nationals actually took place in Dunkerque, famous for its Carnaval... People I met at 8am while walking to the pool!
Et c'était carnaval à Dunkerque. Ils avaient passé une bonne nuit!
Enfin, Sandy a encore son show, avec d'autres amis de l'Eglise. L'idée était de faire un spectacle pour collecter de l'argent pour une mission au Portugal. Des membres de l'église y sont partis pour aider à contrustruire une maison...
Can't live without a mic... That would be Sandy's moto. But it was for a good cause. Raising money for Habitat for Humanity. Some of Church member are actually in Portugal now, thanks to some of the money raised that evening.
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