Picking up where I left off

I think this is where I left my recovery story - I will read on to see if there is more, but I think this is where I need to pick up the story... More soon.

The following was first posted 6 December 2010

Unfortunately, I picked up a bit of an injury over the weekend that has interrupted training. I have strained a muscle in my right shin which is causing quite a bit of a haematoma (bruise) in my lower leg. It's quite painful when I run and, even though I managed an hour long run on it on Saturday, I had to miss yesterday's long run. This is the second time I have had this type of injury - the first being when I was training for the Southland marathon last year - but this time it seems to be less severe.

Thankfully today is a rest day and I don't have another run scheduled until Wednesday. I'm hoping it will be okay on the bike tomorrow evening and it should be fine in the harbour (at 7am tomorrow).

Plenty of rest, a compression stocking and regular icing seems to have accelerated the healing process and it is starting to loosen up already. When the gall bladder infection settled down in August 2001, though, the haematoma I had then was a little more serious and in need of a bit more attention than a bit of rest and some ice.

31 August 2001, Austin Hospital

My condition has stabilised now and I haven't had any gall bladder attacks or fevers for about 36 hours. The nurse was in about half an hour ago to tell me that they would be transporting me back to Bethesda Hospital later today, but that they first wanted to change my dressings.

Changing my dressing is still pretty painful (see A bit sore) but I have become used to dealing with it. The major problem at the moment is that the swelling around my abdomen has become so bad that the cross bars on my external fixators have begun to rub on the wounds where the fixators enter my body. As a result I have developed a couple of really nasty ulcers around the base of my fixators that are now also requiring some attention. When I am rolled on to my side these new wounds are enlarged ever so slightly as the weakened skin and flesh tears a little. So, by now the wound around the right fixator is about the size of my thumb and very ulcerated (just like a mouth ulcer).

The swelling is now also making it extremely difficult to roll me to redress my gravel rash wounds on my torso and it takes several people to undertake the whole operation: two or three to roll and hold me and one to dress the wounds.

The team have just come in and they roll me to the right to reveal the wounds on my left. They are dressing the wound as normal and finish without a hitch. I'm back on my back now and I'm pumping the morphine button (PCA) to make sure that I am ready for the wound on my right which is much bigger and sensitive than the one on my left.

"Okay, ready?" says the nurse. "As ready as I'm going to be," I reply. I'm being rolled slowly and carefully on to my side. "STOP!", I shout, "I can feel a tearing by my fixator!" They stop and check out my fixator wound and it turns out that there is a small tear in my wound. It's not really painful and it's not bleeding, but there is a small amount of clear fluid seeping from the wound. "I think we can carry on with the dressings now," says the nurse as she mops up the fluid.

The rest of the dressing process goes without a hitch and they turn their attention to the new/expanded  wound around my fixator. It's 'oozing' (as they describe it) quite a lot of fluid so they pack it with gauze to soak it up.

An hour passes and they come back to check it. As they remove the bandages covering the gauze, the full extent of the oozing was revealed. It has soaked right through the gauze and is beginning to pool in the plastic undersheet lining the bed. A quick discussion and the charge nurse decides that the underblacket and plastic sheet will have to be replaced even though I am being relocated later today. So, here we go again, more rolling and more pain...

This is going to be quite complicated as they are going to actually lift me off the bed and the swelling hangs off my backside whenever that happens. It's bloody excruciating and, without the crane that Bethesda has, I am not sure how they are going to manage it.

Step one: they roll me one way and bunch up the blanket and plastic sheet as far as they can. Step two: they roll me the other way and bunch the rest up. Step three: lift and remove. Problem: It's impossible to lift me. "One last try," says the charge nurse, "it has to come out." "One, Two, Three, Lift!" They all lift and the charge nurse pulls as hard as he can. "Ahhhh! You ripped me!", I yell. All at once they replace the plastic sheet and return me to my back.

Now there is a real problem. The ooze is coming out really quickly. The gauze is becoming sodden as soon as they pack my wound. They keep repacking it and eventually it slows a little. Any time I move I can feel it running down the inside of my thigh, but there isn't much pain so I ignore it.

A couple of hours have passed and I am in the back of an ambulance being transferred back to Bethesda. The ooze is pretty disgusting by now and I am soaking wet. The ambulance arrives at Bethesda and I am wheeled back into the rehab ward. It feels great to be back. I've only spent a couple of days here, but it feels much more welcoming than the Austin, perhaps because I know it's going to be home for a while.

The ambulance drivers hand me over to the nursing staff and explain about the ooze. A nurse takes a look. "Oh, my God!", she says. I am sure that can't be a good thing. A few minutes later Mary-Lou, the registrar, appears and looks at the wound. There is an instant look of shock on her face as she realises what is happening. "Righ,t let's get this sorted", she exclaims. "I can't believe they sent you back like this. How long has this been like this?", she asks. I explain what had happened.

"You have a massive haematoma in your torso and now it has direct access to the outside. We are going to have to milk it. Are you okay with that?" Mary-Lou explains. Of course, I agree but I ask for a quick explanation of what they are going to do. In essence, she explained that it would be like squeezing a massive pimple.

The process begins and litre after litre or haemoserous fluid is milked from my body. It is caught in a funnel held against my hip and placed in a bucket. After about an hour of milking, 9.5 litres of fluid is collected in the bucket and the oozing has largely subsided. The swelling that has plagued me since my accident is now gone and bags of limp skin hangs from my side. What a relief.

Post script: This event turned out to be a turning point in my recovery. Now I was unburdened by the swelling that had caused so much pain. It was also the source of my infection as this massive abdominal haematoma caused by a closed internal de-gloving injury had been communicating through my wounds with the outside world.

That night I underwent surgery to clean the ulcerated wounds around my fixators, insert six suction drains that would continue to drain the haemoserous (the clear fluid that you get on wounds that helps the healing process) from my torso and to do a thorough cleaning of my gravel rash wounds.

The whole process gave me a new starting point. A new lease of life. A renewed determination to get through this. Tomorrow is a new beginning.

Is it too premature to say that I am back?

Well I hope not!

I am 5 weeks into a training program that will hopefully see me complete my third marathon. The Dunedin marathon is the target for this year and then I am aiming for my second iron distance race in 2015/16.

This week, for the first time in almost 3 years, I have felt great while running!

I am slow - painfully slow - but I have begun to feel an energy building in my muscles. That gentle pain that says that something good is happening. That tiny spark of strength springing forth. I have not felt this in such a long time and I had forgotten how great it feels.

Tonight is also the first time in two years that I have really felt like getting back to my story and continuing to tell it. To be honest, I have felt like a complete fraud for so long that I was embarrassed to continue, but I have re-read some of the comments from those of you that followed my blog and it has inspired me to get back to where I left off. It might take a few weeks to figure out where I left off with my accident story, but I will get there.

In the meantime - I AM BACK and I am loving it! So, sorry, you are going to hear about it.

Slowly but surely

It's been a good couple of weeks' training, although not quite what I had anticipated. I have managed to get in almost all of my planned swims and rides (albeit having to juggle a few days here and there around work and family committments). The weather has been pretty settled and rides have all been in good conditions, except for the ocassional windy patch.

Slowly but surely the fitness is coming back and slowly but surely the memories of how good it feels to train is refilling my empty tanks. I'm loving it again and my mojo is certianly on the rise. Almost 10 hours last week and the week before, including a long ride over 2 hours and a long swim of 2.4km. Ok, its just baby steps, but I don't want to injure myself, do I? The only issue that I am facing is that I cannot run.

Two days after my last post I saw an oesteopath as a referral after an earlier visit to his colleague in November last year. He immediately sent me for an x-ray and ultrasound, fearing a possible stress fracture in my foot. This is a problem that has dragged on for 12 months now and I really need a resolution. The oesteo has diagnosed a stress reaction in the bone and ordered at least a fortnight off running (that follows on from 10 days' reast already).

While the symptom is in my foot, the problem lies in the misalignment of my pelvis a problem that has been worked on by Coach Geoff (and others) over the years to varying degrees of success. Geoff has been doing an amazing job over the last few years and I will be back with him soon, but I have to try something else to try and correct it once and for all.

My hips are rotated to the left and my pelvis tilted forward so that my right leg rotates anti-clockwise and my left leg flicks to the right as I push off. I had noted the different ways that they function in previous postings and had commented on it to physios over the past 10 years but no one seems to have known what to do to correct it.

The new oesteo comes highly recommended and he has suggested a course of action that seems different to the approach of most others. In fact he is going to start in an area of my body that has never even been mentioned as a possible problem - my pelvic floor. Sounds uncomfortable and I bet it will be, but if it makes a difference I don't care. First visit this Wednesday.

Regardless, my early phase of training will continue surely but slowly.

I'm back and it feels good

After a long lay-off with injury and life and several false starts, today I started training for Challenge Wanaka 2013. I signed up for the race last week and, after a week and a bit of rest and recovery following a 5km, half marathon and the 34.5km of running for the Rail Trail Duathlon in the space of 4 weeks (plus a nasty cold), I did my first day of proper triathlon training in months.

St Clair Beach looking west at sunset. A beautiful place to run!

Every other time I have started to swim/bike/run train over the last 12 months, it just hasn't felt right, but today it just feels right. My swim this morning was rubbish, but I didn't once feel like I didn't want to be there and tonight I had a magnificent run along St Clair Beach at dusk. Just perfect!

Where to start?... at the end, of course.

4am, 16 January 2011, Oak Ridge Hotel Room.

Shit, shit, shit. I need another piss!

Okay, nice and easy, now. We don't want a repeat of the 2am episode. You see at 2am I had been woken by a bladder fit to burst and I miraculously swung my legs off the side of the bed, walked almost effortlessly to the toilet and proceeded to pee. Very proud, but utterly amazed, at how sprightly my passage to the toilet had been. I proceeded to unleash the torrent of toxins that my kidneys had spent the last few hours processing in an effort to replenish my system after the grueling punishment it had received in the preceding 24 hours. As the flood became a trickle, I sighed a huge sigh of relief and relaxed. Then, in an instant I was on all fours, one hand in the bowl, the other beside the toilet and my face centimetres from the u-bend giving it a full-blown inspection. Hmmm, this can't be good, but I guess I have just finished my first iron-distance race in the worst conditions in ironman history, I thought to myself as I pondered how I had just managed to go from vertical to horizontal in no time flat. Taking a deep breath, I slowly got back to my feet, hugging the wall all the way back to bed.  Note to self: next time try not to pass out.

So, as you can guess, I'm not too keen on this second trip to the toilet. In fact, I think I'll lie here for a few minutes in the hope that I'll just pop back off to sleep and the pressure in my bladder will some how dissipate. In fact, its at moments like these that I'd be thankful to have the old catheter bag back (I have some funny stories about those that I'll have to include here some day) - oh, what a convenience that would be.

Okay, I have to stop thinking about my bladder. Just concentrate on sleep... sleepy, you feel sleepy... Oh, sod it, I'll have to get it, the pressure is too great. Slowly does it, slowly does it.

Legs out! I said, "Legs out!" Bollocks, I think they need a little bit of a helping hand. Hands under right leg aaaand... Lift! aaaand left leg aaaand... Lift! Deep breath now... aaaand sit UP! Now that wasn't so bad and the head's feeling fine too. On to our feet and off we go. Nice and slowly. Now that wasn't so hard was it.

Now, time for some intense concentration, as I said, we don't want a repeat of the last episode, do we! Release slowly, just a dribble now. Great, all systems still fully operational. Phew, that's a relie... Oh shit, here we go again! Maybe if I just turn around really quickly and head straight back to the bed I'll be okay. No that's not working. THUD!

"It's okay, Geoff! I'm okay. I just passed out, but I am fine!" My temple had smashed against the porcelain hand basin with an almighty crack en route to the steely cold tiles of the bathroom floor, but somehow I lay their perfectly lucid and relatively unscathed.

"What the hell just happened?" Geoff said as he sped to my aid at lightening speed. I don't know how he didn't pass out himself, as he barely had time to wake up before he bolted to me in the bathroom and he had just finished the Lake Wanaka Half yesterday too. "Shit, mate! What the hell were you doing?" he queried. "I passed out having a piss. It happened at 2am as well." I said and proceeded to tell him about my two fainting episodes. "You stupid bastard!", he said, "why didn't you get me up to help you?" "I didn't want to disturb you and I thought I'd be okay this time." "Why didn't you sit down the second time then?!" Dah, why didn't I think of that? But I guess these things don't come to you that easily when you have spent more than 15 hours of the previous 24 hours moving non-stop under your own steam and then an hour and half in a medical tent unable to get far beyond horizontal.

My journey had begun with me strewn on the pavement having just been mown down by a truck and here I was, almost 10 years, in the same position - compromised, vulnerable and in a far from healthy state - and you know what? I couldn't wipe the smile off my face!

I had done it. I had come way further than full circle and done something no one would have believed possible. I had become an ironman!

Next time: 4am the day before and the start of one of the proudest days of my life.

My Tale of Challenge Wanaka 2011

You may have wondered where my race report has disappeared to. To be honest I don't know why I have been reluctant to write it, but I think that it is coming soon. Strangely, even though I religiously record all of my event stats, I haven't even put my race details in my results spreadsheet.

Perhaps it is because deep down I feel like I did not give the race my all. A time of more than 15 hours was gut wrenching and not being able to run the marathon almost broke me on race day; not the cramp itself, just the fact that I couldn't run. I had trained so hard and yet I was not able to complete the race as I had scripted it in my head.

I know that's a load of bollocks and I should be proud of my achievement and, trust me I am, but that hasn't stopped me being more than a little disappointed. The fact that training has been far from ideal this year is also playing on my mind and has made me reluctant to write about my race experience for fear that it will discourage me even further.

But recently, I have had a few fleeting moments of reflection of all of the amazing and wonderful things that happened to me last year in training and the enormity of the target that I set myself and achieved on 15 January.

I have just re-read Dean Karnazes' brilliant first book Ultramarathon Man and his descriptions of his ultradistance running experiences brought all my experiences flooding back in technicolour. His third book, so eloquently entitled Run, and which I read in record time, also stirred many emotional memories of race day. But perhaps it was today's run up Dunedin's Pineapple Track and Flagstaff that has rekindled my enthusiasm to tell my tale.

Today's was a 90-minute easy, recovery run and last year this would have resulted in me selecting the flattest route possible, preferably out of the wind and somewhere that I didn't have to think about things too much. But today I decided the Pineapple Track was a must do. The track rises more than 520 metres to the summit of Flagstaff and opens to a panorama across the city to the ocean, breathtaking views inland to the Rock and Pillar Range and over to the Taieri Plains as they stretch out beneath. The track to the summit is 4km long and it took me 38 minutes to get to the top, but I felt exhilarated when I reached the top, not tired at all. It has been more than 20 years since I have been to the top of Flagstaff and never before have I considered running it, and hell would have frozen over before I'd have selected it as my long easy run.

Today, I realised that Challenge Wanaka has changed me. Easy has a new definition. No longer is easy the path of least resistance. Easy is now about how I approach a challenge (a state of mind and attitude towards the challenge), not the challenge itself.

I think I had expected a huge change to wash over me as I crossed the finish line in some baptism of enlightenment. When that didn't happen I just assumed that I had not achieved what I had set out to do and that is what I have continued to believe for the past six months. It's not that I didn't feel different following my race, I did. I felt some how more... I don't know... just more, actually. It was, and continues to be, a weird feeling. But today, I realise that the huge change that has happened is actually very small: so small I didn't even notice it's there, yet so huge that it has changed the course of my life forever. In a way it is the opposite of my accident, which was so instantly and tangibly life-changing (in both good and bad ways), when the reality was the changes I made as a result of my accident were so very small. The accident imposed change upon me, Challenge has empowered me to make a change.

The tale of something so life-changing should must not remain untold...

Watch this space...

More ups and downs

After my last post things have generally been on the up, but training has not been without its interruptions. I ended up with a very swollen gland in my neck and had another visit to the doctor. There wasn't any apparent cause for the swelling, but the Doc thought it might have been something like 'sand' in my saliva gland (a small piece of grit produced by the body in the same way that the kidney can produce stones). It was very painful and put me out of action for 4 or 5 days.

Thankfully the swelling and pain disappeared within a few days and just a few days later I managed to run a PB for 5km in training and things were looking up again. Then, just 3 days later I rolled my ankle at a rugby practice for the Colts team that I am coaching, when I stood on a loose piece of turf during a game of touch rugby. You must be kidding! I was really beginning to wonder if someone or somthing was trying to tell me to give up altogether. That put me out for another couple of days and by the end of the week I was also needing to rest my ankle again.

That was Friday last week and I had the Balclutha Half Marathon on Sunday. Somewhat foolhardily, I figured that I'd still give it a go and not only that, I set myself an ambitious target to shave some significant time off my PB.

Given the last month's events, I have no idea why I was so sure that I would be able to get anywhere near a PB, but I was very confident. I set the following targets for my splits:
5km        23:00 (all down hill)
10km      46:30
15km      70:30
20km      95:00
21.1km 101-102 (the last km is a real slog up hill)

To my very pleasant surprise, here is what I managed to do:
5km          21:57 (PB by 64 seconds)
10km        45:20 (PB by 2:34)

15km        70:01 (PB by 3:15)

20km        95:16 (PB by 3:36)
21.1k      101:02 (PB by 3:45 – based on corrected Cromwell time, only 1:34 better than actual Cromwell time, but it is definitely a shorter course)

I am stoked that I was able to achieve the pretty ambitious splits that I had set myself. The first part was faster than I had hoped to be doing as I got with a bunch that I could comfortably keep up with (and at times I even pushed them along a little). At about 3km I contemplated slowing to my target pace, but I felt strong and was able to stay with the bunch right through to 10-12km mark (when the group disintegrated anyway). Just as well I pushed a little harder for the first 10km as I was a little off target for the second and third 5km blocks. In the back of my mind I actually had 1:40 as my dream time for the day, but I knew that the last hill would be a major hurdle in achieving that. I gave it a bloody good nudge though. It wasn’t the perfect race, but getting up there in terms of knowing what my physical limits were and going right to those limits. I know that on the day I simply could not have gone any faster at any point of the race and I have never felt that before.

Average pace overall 4:47 min/km (11sec/km faster than my previous best pace).

In the meantime my weight is doing some weird things - up on Mondays and down on Thursdays, swinging as much as 2.5kg in 3 or 4 days. The upshot is that I have been hovering either side of 99kg for more than a month (as low as 98.2kg last Thursday and as high as 100.7kg the Monday before that). As is normal for me I am struggling a little with the nutrition plan. I am probably about 90% to plan, but it is the 10% that is letting me down. A 1:41 half marathon, though, has really spurred me on to lose more weight and acheive a 1:30 half marathon in the relatively near future.

Rediscovering my Mojo

Since my last post, almost three weeks ago, I have done almost no training. First, I got a cold that knocked me for six and then I completely lost any drive to train.

I simply loathed the thought of going to the pool and doing what seemed like endless laps and I really struggled to get any motivation to drag the bike out of the garage. However, I have managed a few runs over the last few weeks and actually really enjoyed them. In fact, I am craving just heading out and just running for as long as my legs carry me.

I can't pinpoint exactly why my motivation has diappeared, but I think that it is a reflection of a number of things. In an email to Coach Geoff, I wrote:

1: I think I am physically run down
My physical condition is not that flash at the moment. Aside from the cold, I have had a number of sores on my face and in my nose and I generally feel lethargic. My cuboid problem persists and my hip is not 100% yet either. I think this has been building for a while as I had been getting to Thursday each week of training and pretty much not having any energy at all for Thursday and Friday training. I am pretty sure this is a sign that I am physically run down.

2: I am mentally drained

This comes not just from training, but from life in general. A number of things buidling up at work, training, rugby, etc is making life pretty hectic albeit not as stressful as it has been in the past.

3: There is uncertainty around my ultimate training goal for this year
I am not sure whether I am going to be able to complete the training necessary for the full Challenge as there are some uncertainties around work and I don't know what demands it will place on my time. This is in the back of my mind all of the time when I train and makes it hard to commit to the session that I am doing

4: Some of my training no longer excites me

For the first time in well over two years, I dread going out for training. This is definitely true for swimming, sometimes the case for the bike, but only very rarely for the running.

5: I crave running

I still enjoy the running and actually feel myself craving to do some very long runs. I wonder if having a month or so with  a focus on running will reinvigorate me.

6: I still enjoy racing, but...

I received a comment on my blog the other day that has really kicked me in the guts and burst my bubble.

The comment was posted anonymously in response to my last post and went like this: "Oh pleeease!! Your times are very average, your trumpet blowing is getting annoying....spare us all!" I know I shouldn't have let it effect me, but it did. I deleted it as soon as I read it! I got angry! I felt depressed! But deep down I knew this hurt because it was true. I am nothing more than a very average athlete and right now there is nothing I could do about that.

In the past I would have used this sort of thing as motivation to spur me on, to train harder, to be faster. This time, though, I curled up in a (metaphorical) corner in self-pity.

On Tuesday, though, I rediscovered my mojo. I gave a lecture (the last of four on Challange Wanaka) to about 50 sports tourism students using excerpts from my blog to illustrate the emotional experiences of a Challenge athlete. As I read some passages, a lump came to my throat and my voice started to quiver. I got through, finishing about 10 minutes ahead of time, but exhausted and emotionally drained from the experience. As I did, a single clap came from the back of the room and then the entire class burst into brief, but heartfelt, applause. I nearly lost it right then and there, but managed to hold my composure. Then, in the lift back to my office, one of the young woman from the class said "That was a really inspirational lecture, thanks." In the two days since I have received two wonderful emails from two other members of the class thanking me for my lecture and for inspiring them to achieve. It felt fantastic!

Geoff has also worked out a new regime for me for the next couple of months that will focus primarily on running, with just a couple fo swims and one or two rides. It looks fantastic and has lots of nice short term goals in it to keep me interested. Running more should also assist in dropping my weight.

The outcome of this, however, is that it is unlikely that I will be doing the full Challenge Wanaka event in 2012. I will definitely be doing the Lake Wanaka Half and possibly one or two others over the summer, but, for the moment at least, I am in no state of mind to continue with the training necessary to pull off the full. I am both relieved and saddened at having reached this decision, but I want my next Challenge event to be the best I can possibly do and I know, even this far out, that I am unlikely to be able to give my full effort in 2012. My goal for Challenge is still the same - I want to make the top 20 in my age group - I am just being more realistic about when this might be (notice I said 'might', there is always a chance that I could upgrade my 2012 entry, should Geoff and I decide in a month or two that things are going well enough). Look out in 2013!

To be honest, I am really looking forward to doing the Lake Wanaka Half, as I am likely to be up against several people that I know: Lil Bro' Chris; James Brundell; another James; and even Coach Geoff. This makes me even more determined to be at a lean racing weight and to attain the target of under 20kg.

I've also started helping several mates with their training for various events. Two are old high school mates (Jas Wadsworth and Tony McAuliffe) who want to do the Moro Half Marathon in September, while my brother Chris and a friend from work Andrea Farminer have asked for advice on how to manage their training for the Lake Wanaka Half. It gives me a huge buzz to help these guys. I'm not promising any results, as my advice is pretty general stuff compared to the taylored specifics I get from Geoff. If nothing else it gives them a bit of structure and I am always their to motivate and encourage (or kick up the arse in the case of Tony).

It's been a really tough couple of weeks and I have had to dig really deep to get back on track, but I think that I am now heading off in the right direction, reinvigorated and recharged.

Gore Half Marathon - flailing arms and heavy breathing

Another little success today. I ran my second fastest half marathon ever, on what is one of the toughest courses I have done. There is a 150 metre vertical climb, with most of the first 9km up hill and then another 1.5km climb at about 11.5km. And, you guessed it, my friend the wind was blowing a nasty head wind in our face for most of the up hill stretches.

I definitely used my Challenge experience to get me up the hills. I chanted "I'm strong in the wind"... "Stay strong" and I was strong on the up-hills. Strangely, though, I found it tough on the down hill stretches as my hammies just didn't want to let me stride out. I guess that comes from all of the riding that I have been doing over the last few months. Strong quads and calves for climbing, but short hamstrings holding me back.

The really good news is that my hips were absolutely fantastic for the first time in... well as long as I can remember. There was no pain and no restricted movement. My right hip has not been free at all since my accident and has been particularly bad for the last few months. Geoff and my osteo (Abby Carrington) have been doing a lot of work on it and Geoff has given me a series of exercises to activate all of the relevant muscles, neurons, etc. It's all working exceptionally well.

I didn't know what to expect today as it has been more than 6 months since I have run a half marathon (the previous being my PB at Cromwell in October), so I am stoked with the result. Little bro', Chris, has been doing some impressive times in training, but I was able to keep pace for the first 5 km and even held a 50-80 metre lead at the 10km mark. A bout of stitch, after a gel and cold water at 10km (sorry Geoff, I know you don't want me using gels), slowed me and put a dint in my confidence. Chris passed me at the bottom of the hill at the 11.5km mark and I let him go, but half way up he started to slow and I gained a few metres back to be less than 50 metres behind.

By the 15km drink station Chris had a 50km lead and just after that powered away to over 100m ahead of me. Shortly after I reeled in a young guy whom had been ahead of me and who was clearly in discomfort for most of the last 10km. As I passed, he asked if this was my first race and I politely let him know that this was my 18th half or full and then, unfortunately, it appeared I had gained a friend for the rest of the race. His form was all over the place as he shook his arms in discomfort every 5m or so and his breathing was irratic and I was sure that I would shake him. But, NO, he bombarded me with a barrage of questions about how far to go, how long it was going to take, what was that beep (as my GPS signalled another km)...

All of this was sapping my energy so I decided that I had to drop him and drop him quick, I put the pedal to the metal and, you guessed it, he stumbled along, arms flailing everywhere and heavy breath grunting in my ear, never more than a pace or two behind me. He was really stuffing up my concentration and in the meantime, Chris was inching away. Then, with Chris about 180-200m ahead, I spotted the 18km drink station and I knew this was my chance to drop my new friend. I wanted to help him, I really did, but he was ruining my chance of clawing back some time on Chris.

I grabbed a drink, took one small gulp (hoping my mate would do the same and slow) and upped the ante as we rounded the corner. My strategy worked. As we round the corner the head wind rose and his breathing intensified and I knew this was the time to make a move. "Strong in the wind", I repeated over and over in my head and I was able to stride away. At the same time, I could see that Chris was struggling ahead and that I was gaining on him ever so slowly. I was careful not to go too hard too soon, but I was confident I could rein him in.

At about 19.5km, I was 120m or so behind Chris and I lifted the pace and was really happy to feel the pace quicken substantially and I began to reel him in. I was taking big chunks out and as he rounded the last corner, with what I thought was about 500m to go, I was only 30-40m behind. I knew he was mine. I could tell he had nothing else left as we'd done training runs together where I'd practiced exactly this scenario. I round the corner and... 'bloody hell, that's far too close' ... the finish line was less than half the distance that I expected.

I now knew that, barring a trip or stumble from Chris, I'd really struggle to pip him at the post (something I'd played over in my head on a number of occasions). I still gave it a bloody good nudge though and finished 10 seconds behind.

In the end, I finished in 1:45:23 (on a course that was 300 metres short, DAMN IT) and Chris finished in 1:45:13, a whooping 6:22 faster than his previous PB. Well done, Chris! That's 2:2, as far as half marathons go between us, but I am still 30 minutes ahead on aggregate time. Bring on 26 June and the Clutha Half Marathon!

Double digits

I'm stoked to have finally moved back into double figures... this time for good.

This morning I took a sneak peek on the scales (I normally weigh-in on Thursday and Monday) and I was pleasantly surprised to read 99.5kg. That's the lightest I have been since about 1998! I was around 99.7 last November but was over 100 by race day and crept back up to 106 by March.

The next target is % body fat lower than % muscle mass. I've been slowly watching the two lines converge on the graph that I plot from my scales (body fat getting lower and muscle mass getting higher) and there is now only a 2% difference between the two figures.

After that 90kg is my big target as I haven't been less than 91kg in at least 22 years.  Then the next serious target is 83.5kg which is 'normal' BMI for my height. I haven't been a 'normal' weight since I was about 10!

I've been losing an average of just under 1kg per week so at this rate it is conceivable that by August I could be at a normal weight. Given how much stronger I feel already having lost 6.5kg in the last 6.5 weeks, I can't wait to be in the 80s.

I had an awesome run session yesterday after a 2 hour ride on the bike. I felt very strong and was able to easily turn it into a progressive effort, starting out at about 5:26 pace for the first km while I found my run legs again and working up to 4:43 pace for the last of 6kms. It felt great to have spring in my legs and energy to burn...

The battle of the bulge is underway and so far I am winning; slowly, but I am winning.