Spaghetti Arms

Only now can I wash my hair. For the last few days it has been a struggle to bend and raise my arms far enough, they’re feeling so sore after my first session of upper-body training followed by mountain biking. So apologies to the person I sat next to on the bus from Fort William to Glasgow - I didn't mean to have greasy hair!

Last Thursday, I did my second session with Scott who I’ve hired as a personal torturer, sorry trainer. Half of my hour was spent discussing nutrition, as he pulled apart the food diary I’d kept for the past week and then calculated how much carbs, protein, and fat I should be eating daily. It looks to me like I’d put ON weight following that diet, but we’ll see.

The second half of the session was spent working my upper body. Lying face up on a bench, I raised the empty weight bar and went through the motions. That was easy. Then came the weights. Then onto the “dips” machine – (ok that’s not its name, but it allowed me to do dips with a level of compensation for weight). Finally, we came to press-ups.

“I’ll not be able to do more than twenty”, I warned Scott, thinking back to when I last did press-ups. Horror of horrors – I couldn’t do ONE! Oh how embarrassing! Eventually, and assisted by the ubiquitous ball, I found a position supporting much of my body which allowed me to do twenty, just. Girlie press-ups, how humiliating. But as Scott said, that gives me a baseline from which I ought to be able to see my improvement. I hope he’s right. As it was, riding home was wobbly because my arms were so limp it was hard to steer.

The following day I woke early, had some food, then did a four mile run along the quayside and up through town to Tiso where I bought some new trail running shoes and stuff for Liz’s Christmas present. That evening, we drove to our cottage.

Saturday was bright and clear, so once I’d worked on the house with Liz, I managed to get out on the bike (leaving her to continue working). I only have my mountain bike up North, but fortunately its currently fitted with road/hybrid tyres as I fancied a road ride. As it happened, I picked a good route, around thirty miles long which took three and a half hours (8.5mph). There was very little wind. Loch Linnhe reflected the panorama of snow capped mountains, and I road back from Kingairloch thinking “My God, what a great country to live in!”

Sunday saw more house work, the bus ride home and a session on the ball at home.

Monday I ran the two miles to work, and I’m using my lunch hour to update this blog. I’ll probably go for a slightly longer run tonight then do a ball session, hoping to see Scott for my next session on Wednesday. And yes, as I type, my arms still hurt like hell!

First Team Meeting (almost)

One of the hardest things about training for this team race is going to be getting our team in one place frequently enough to train.

I was working tonight (09.30-23.30) which effectively ruled out a meeting, and since I'd explained this to Robyn, I thought the proposed meeting at 19.00 on Queen Street Station, Glasgow had been postponed until after Christmas.

Two surprising things happened. Firstly, a chap called Jerry, who was on Robyn's list of possibles, rang to ask if the meeting was still on. I thought not, but suggested he check with Dominic & Neil. Jerry had the courtesy to ring back to say it was.

Secondly, and for the only time in five years of reporting for Newsnight Scotland, I was doing a live studio contribution without first having to edit a vt package. "Why don't you push off until 9 o'clock" my editor suggested, and he didn't have to ask twice.

Which is how four of us managed to meet up in Glasgow tonight and, over a bowl of noodles in Wagamama, put faces and voices to names. Sadly, Robyn was still on her way back from a meeting in Edinburgh, so we were without the woman who was pulling all the threads together.

Will this eventually lead to us competing in the Hebridean Challenge? We all hope so. We know that the only way we'll work as a team is if we can train as a team, but if this is anything to go by, that will be a challenge in itself!

The others are going to e-mail me the weekend days in Jan & Feb they're busy, I'll combine the lists, and we'll see if there are any dates we can all get out together - maybe a trip to somewhere outside Edinburgh to bike and run. And really get to know one another.

It seemed like a good idea...

By all accounts, it’s the paddlers who party. While the other competitors in the Hebridean Challenge consider themselves “athletes”, the sea kayak specialists are just “paddlers”, which gives them the excuse to stay up until the wee hours having a good time. A nice idea, which I will believe when I see it!

Somehow I find myself as part of a five person team planning to enter The Hebridean Challenge, a five day adventure race up the length of the Outer Hebrides, from Barra to Stornoway. (I’ll explain why I say “somehow” in a moment.) As I understand it, and I am still trying to get my head around what I’ve gotten into here, it’s a kind of relay race. There are sections of hill running, road biking, mountain biking, open water swimming and sea kayaking. Not every member of the team can tackle each section, because some happen simultaneously, but if more team members than necessary complete a section then they earn extra points. Please don’t take that as a definitive explanation of this event because I may discover I’m utterly wrong.

It started with a phone call to John Manning, the Deputy Editor of TGO Magazine, who I wanted to congratulate for just completing the Pacific Crest Trail. Instead, TGO’s designer Robyn Frew answered the phone, “Hi Simon – you’re a kayaker right?” (She’s a kiwi). “How’d you fancy being our kayak specialist?” Two days later I was committed to months of intensive training and considerable pain.

I rang Gordon Brown of Skyak Adventure who reassured me that I’d be able to earn my 4 star qualification before race day next July. He was twice Sea Safety Officer on this event in previous years, and explained I’d probably be competing against ex-Olympians. I had a momentary vision of everyone hauling their boats on-top of their vans while I was still in the Sound of Harris. “I don’t want to win”, I told him, “I just want to finish”. I clearly have some work to do.

So I’ve done what I swore I’d never do – I’ve hired a personal trainer. For the times I’ll be training, and the fact that most of it will be paddling my kayak, running or riding, this “yuppie” sounding thing-to-do should work out cheaper than a gym membership.

So far I’ve just done one session with Scott who has determined that “core stability” is the thing for me to work on first. Muscles, way below my stomach muscles, are protesting at having been rudely woken from their slumber. It’s now up to me to, gradually, get them fully alert. I’m also keeping a food diary, running to work, and this year Santa Claus might put a heart-rate monitor in my stocking.

However, with the exception of Robyn, I’ve yet to meet the rest of the team. In fact, we’ve yet to find our fifth member. Scott considered joining us, but after reading the synopsis of the race, felt he might be over-committed. I’ve read the CV’s of the two Edinburgh men who have thrown their lot in with Robyn and was rather stunned to realise that I went to University a month or so after they were born. Like Robyn, they’ve tackled Adventure Races before, whereas this will be my first, but I was reassured to learn that stamina builds over the age of 30. We’ll see…..

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