Thursday, July 31, 2008
Anyone would think that the liberating opportunity of two children in summer school for an entire week would mean the possible achievement of just about anything.
For me though, it's just been a sluggish week of lethargic training, boring admin and numerous frustrations.
I don't know where the motivation's gone. I spent 5 minutes during my long run yesterday sitting on a bench on the top of Parliament Hill wondering what on earth I was doing. That after already having walked for 5 minutes along Primrose Hill Road wondering whether I should just give up and go home.
This isn't like me; usually I'm raring to go for almost every training session. And after having been forced off running for nearly 3 months I expected to be even more motivated than usual. I'm not even looking forward to the London Tri a week on Sunday; I can't be bothered to do it. What on earth's wrong with me?
I had a reasonable session in the gym this afternoon though (albeit that it came about after skiving my intended Richmond Park bike loops). I felt I could go consistently hard for the hour of hard work, and my motivation was strong.
Maybe it's just the heat and humidity sapping my energy. Or maybe it's just the knowledge that I'll never make a good runner. It's a constant frustration. All that effort with so little recompense. I reckon my biomechanics are all wrong. Hmm.
I've recently been asked to contribute a story of a lifetime event which served as a catalyst for something positive. I can't think of anything. The deadline's pretty much passed anyway but I can't believe I can't think of one event. I'm such a damn negativist: If someone were to ask me to write a personal short story on one of my life's shortcomings I wouldn't know where to start for all the material. But ask me to detail one inspirational moment ... and I can't think of anything. Nothing. Blargh.
Proper parenting starts next week. I'm compiling a list of things the kids want to do during the holiday: Rowing boats in Regent's Park, playing with balls and tennis rackets in the garden; going swimming. All sounds achievable. Unfortunately most of our good neighbourhood friends are away for this part of the summer holiday so it's not promising to be particularly sociable, but I'm determined that the kids are going to have fun and I'm going to retain my sanity. Not much to ask is it?
I think we're taking Jody up to Hillingdon this Saturday for bike racing with the Hillingdon Slipstreamers. It's something spotted by a neighbourhood friend and sounds like great fun. I promise we're not starting triathlon boot camp; it's more an opportunity for her to have fun, learn some bike skills and mess about in a suitable environment. I think she'll have a ball.
For me though, it's just been a sluggish week of lethargic training, boring admin and numerous frustrations.
I don't know where the motivation's gone. I spent 5 minutes during my long run yesterday sitting on a bench on the top of Parliament Hill wondering what on earth I was doing. That after already having walked for 5 minutes along Primrose Hill Road wondering whether I should just give up and go home.
This isn't like me; usually I'm raring to go for almost every training session. And after having been forced off running for nearly 3 months I expected to be even more motivated than usual. I'm not even looking forward to the London Tri a week on Sunday; I can't be bothered to do it. What on earth's wrong with me?
I had a reasonable session in the gym this afternoon though (albeit that it came about after skiving my intended Richmond Park bike loops). I felt I could go consistently hard for the hour of hard work, and my motivation was strong.
Maybe it's just the heat and humidity sapping my energy. Or maybe it's just the knowledge that I'll never make a good runner. It's a constant frustration. All that effort with so little recompense. I reckon my biomechanics are all wrong. Hmm.
I've recently been asked to contribute a story of a lifetime event which served as a catalyst for something positive. I can't think of anything. The deadline's pretty much passed anyway but I can't believe I can't think of one event. I'm such a damn negativist: If someone were to ask me to write a personal short story on one of my life's shortcomings I wouldn't know where to start for all the material. But ask me to detail one inspirational moment ... and I can't think of anything. Nothing. Blargh.
Proper parenting starts next week. I'm compiling a list of things the kids want to do during the holiday: Rowing boats in Regent's Park, playing with balls and tennis rackets in the garden; going swimming. All sounds achievable. Unfortunately most of our good neighbourhood friends are away for this part of the summer holiday so it's not promising to be particularly sociable, but I'm determined that the kids are going to have fun and I'm going to retain my sanity. Not much to ask is it?
I think we're taking Jody up to Hillingdon this Saturday for bike racing with the Hillingdon Slipstreamers. It's something spotted by a neighbourhood friend and sounds like great fun. I promise we're not starting triathlon boot camp; it's more an opportunity for her to have fun, learn some bike skills and mess about in a suitable environment. I think she'll have a ball.
lara : 17:28
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Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Like a good wine the holiday got better with time. The buffet didn't improve but we accepted its tasteless monotony and looked forward to the weekly barbequed chicken and baked potatoes. We even splashed out on some imported wine towards the end of the trip - though it stings a bit to pay nearly £40 for a Rosemount Chardonnay which costs around £6 in the supermarkets here.
The windsurfing was consistently easy and enjoyable and I proved my carve gybing was no fluke as I managed to get round more than 50% by the end of the trip, which left me enthused for the next trip and excited to have finally cracked it.
The kids had a lovely time throughout. We'd put them in Kids Club at 9:30 in the morning and left them to a regime of activities such as sailing, canoeing, splashing in the pool complex, building sandcastles and an assortment of indoor craft projects. They skipped happily to Club every morning and there was no question that they preferred the society of kids their own age and specifically engineered entertainment, than hanging about with their boring parents.
The strongest winds were in the morning, so Roj and I would spend most mornings out on the water, coming in in time to pick up the kids for lunch at 12:30.
After delectable salad rolls we'd rush the kids to bed for an hour-long siesta and I'd capitalise on that hour in the gym, while Roj dozed with the kids.
Around 3pm we'd return the kids to club for another afternoon of fun and games while we retired to the sun-loungers on the beach for a bit of reading, sunbathing and - for me - my hour of laps around the swim zone.
At 5:30 we'd collect the kids again and take them via an ice-cream to the pool or the beach where we'd play with them for an hour or so before retiring to the hotel room for baths and to get ready for dinner.
And then it was off to that ever-so-appealing buffet for an evening of "Can I have pudding now?" and "I don't want this!" or "Can I have your food?" We wanted to spend the evening with the kids but it was pretty high-maintenance and we subsequently decided that 2 weeks of almost no adult face-time was not an ideal scenario and that we should really have booked with the babysitting service for at least one night a week so that Roj and I could have a rather less fraught evening with just the two of us.
But the kids enjoyed their chance to stay up late and we occasionally took them to the post-dinner 'Mini Disco' which was a variation on line-dancing to tenuous hits such as The Birdie Song (in French) and other international wonders where Jody would try and keep with the movements and get around half of them right but with a 1 to 2 second time lag. She enjoyed it and fell in love with one of the group leaders, but we decided she doesn't have a great head for rhythm, particularly compared with some of her close peers who would be gyrating away like regular little Christina Aguileras to the strange Arabic numbers.
We'd pay the Mini Disco price the following morning having got the kids to bed at about 9:45pm, and we had to compensate for the lack of sleep with one super-long siesta midway through the holiday. They did generally get on well with the schedule though, and loved every minute of their time there. Having been a parent who never thought she would advocate Kids Club holidays, I have been made to categorically eat my hat with the realisation that the kids don't want to be anywhere but with a group of other children their age doing activities designed to keep them happy all holiday. Plus it's a perfect introduction to watersports without too much stress and commitment from us, and allows us to have a holiday too. A brilliant way to keep us all happy. Thank you Mark Warner!
I read 3 books on holiday; The brilliant and minutely described Saturday by Ian McEwen; Delirium by Laura Restrepo which though interesting, I didn't get on with because of the multiple points-of-view written in the same voice; and the worst book I've ever read in my life: Mergers and Acquisitions by Dana Vachon which I was so appalled with that I actually ripped to shreds once I'd completed it. I can only describe it as a pointless self-indulgent description of debauchery and boobs. Don't bother. Wish I'd stuck to Martin Amis's Yellow Dog (after it was filched by my dear husband) but I didn't think the Vachon could be that bad.
So our holiday is over for the year (although we're off to Monaco for a few days in mid-August). It's always disappointing to think that you might not windsurf again for another 12 months. Roj has spent the last 48 hours inspecting worldwide resort wind statistics to pre-plan our next break. I don't know ... it would be nice to have what Egypt offers - the climate (although maybe a few degrees cooler), the beach facilities, the watersports opportunities, but with excellent food (France, Italy?) and a more accommodating vibe (although I have to say the Egyptians love kids). But a European resort like that would be jam-packed in late July and we know from Dahab and Vassiliki that windsurfing in a traffic jam is no fun. Compromise has to be made on some levels and maybe food is just the way it has to be. Even though I was convinced this was our last Egyptian holiday I can actually see us going back already. Maybe not next year - perhaps we have to try Fuertaventura or Tarifa first - but sometime after that ...
Back to some semblance of a routine now then. Although the kids are in Summer School all week (9am - 3pm - imagine that!) so I'm concentrating on getting ahead in domesticity so that I'm not swamped in the 3 weeks of full-time parenting ahead of me.
Jody got her first visit from the Tooth Fairy on Saturday night. One of her bottom front teeth became wobbly on holiday and she held onto it until Saturday lunchtime when there were sudden floods of tears at its disappearance. We looked in her mouth and her sandwich and on the floor but the offending tooth was obviously rapidly on the way to her stomach, so we encouraged Jody to write a little letter to the Tooth Fairy to explain what had happened, and put that under her pillow. Luckily the ploy worked and there was a gleaming coin replacing it in the morning. Jody looks funny without her tooth. I can't believe she's on the way to an adult set of pearly whites. Seems too early to me.
Training Diary 21-27 July
M: 30 min treadmill run: 1% + 5 min @ 10, 10.5, 11, 11.5, 12, 1 min @ 12 + 2%, 1 min @ 12 + 3%, cool-down
1 hr sea swim
T: 1 hr windsurf
41 min treadmill run: 1% + 15 mins @ 9.5, 10, 10 min @ 10.5
25 min sea swim
W: 1:45 windsurf
50 min treadmill recovery run @ 9.5
T: 2 hr windsurf
25 min sea swim
F-S: off
Total: 3hrs 50 mins + 4hrs 45 mins windsurf = 8hrs 35 mins
Training Diary 14-20 July
M: 30 min windsurf
1 hr sea swim
35 treadmill min run pyramid @ 1% incline (replicates road): 5min warm-up; 5min @ 10, 10.5, 11, 11 + 2% incline, cool-down
T: 1.5 hr windsurf
35 min treadmill run pyramid to 11
1 hr sea swim
W: ill
T: 45 mins windsurf
1 hr sea swim
F: 40 mins treadmill run pyramid: 1% + 5min @ 9.5, 10, 10.5, 11, 11.5, 11, 10.5, cool-down
1 hr sea swim
S: 1 hr windsurf
23 min treadmill run (after 1 beer - impossible!)
1 hr sea swim
S: 1:45 windsurf
48 min treadmill run: 1% + 8min @ 9.5, 10 min @ 10, 15 @ 10.5, 5 @ 11, 5 @ 10, cool-down
Total: 8 hrs + 5.5 hrs windsurf = 13.5
The windsurfing was consistently easy and enjoyable and I proved my carve gybing was no fluke as I managed to get round more than 50% by the end of the trip, which left me enthused for the next trip and excited to have finally cracked it.
The kids had a lovely time throughout. We'd put them in Kids Club at 9:30 in the morning and left them to a regime of activities such as sailing, canoeing, splashing in the pool complex, building sandcastles and an assortment of indoor craft projects. They skipped happily to Club every morning and there was no question that they preferred the society of kids their own age and specifically engineered entertainment, than hanging about with their boring parents.
The strongest winds were in the morning, so Roj and I would spend most mornings out on the water, coming in in time to pick up the kids for lunch at 12:30.
After delectable salad rolls we'd rush the kids to bed for an hour-long siesta and I'd capitalise on that hour in the gym, while Roj dozed with the kids.
Around 3pm we'd return the kids to club for another afternoon of fun and games while we retired to the sun-loungers on the beach for a bit of reading, sunbathing and - for me - my hour of laps around the swim zone.
At 5:30 we'd collect the kids again and take them via an ice-cream to the pool or the beach where we'd play with them for an hour or so before retiring to the hotel room for baths and to get ready for dinner.
And then it was off to that ever-so-appealing buffet for an evening of "Can I have pudding now?" and "I don't want this!" or "Can I have your food?" We wanted to spend the evening with the kids but it was pretty high-maintenance and we subsequently decided that 2 weeks of almost no adult face-time was not an ideal scenario and that we should really have booked with the babysitting service for at least one night a week so that Roj and I could have a rather less fraught evening with just the two of us.
But the kids enjoyed their chance to stay up late and we occasionally took them to the post-dinner 'Mini Disco' which was a variation on line-dancing to tenuous hits such as The Birdie Song (in French) and other international wonders where Jody would try and keep with the movements and get around half of them right but with a 1 to 2 second time lag. She enjoyed it and fell in love with one of the group leaders, but we decided she doesn't have a great head for rhythm, particularly compared with some of her close peers who would be gyrating away like regular little Christina Aguileras to the strange Arabic numbers.
We'd pay the Mini Disco price the following morning having got the kids to bed at about 9:45pm, and we had to compensate for the lack of sleep with one super-long siesta midway through the holiday. They did generally get on well with the schedule though, and loved every minute of their time there. Having been a parent who never thought she would advocate Kids Club holidays, I have been made to categorically eat my hat with the realisation that the kids don't want to be anywhere but with a group of other children their age doing activities designed to keep them happy all holiday. Plus it's a perfect introduction to watersports without too much stress and commitment from us, and allows us to have a holiday too. A brilliant way to keep us all happy. Thank you Mark Warner!
I read 3 books on holiday; The brilliant and minutely described Saturday by Ian McEwen; Delirium by Laura Restrepo which though interesting, I didn't get on with because of the multiple points-of-view written in the same voice; and the worst book I've ever read in my life: Mergers and Acquisitions by Dana Vachon which I was so appalled with that I actually ripped to shreds once I'd completed it. I can only describe it as a pointless self-indulgent description of debauchery and boobs. Don't bother. Wish I'd stuck to Martin Amis's Yellow Dog (after it was filched by my dear husband) but I didn't think the Vachon could be that bad.
So our holiday is over for the year (although we're off to Monaco for a few days in mid-August). It's always disappointing to think that you might not windsurf again for another 12 months. Roj has spent the last 48 hours inspecting worldwide resort wind statistics to pre-plan our next break. I don't know ... it would be nice to have what Egypt offers - the climate (although maybe a few degrees cooler), the beach facilities, the watersports opportunities, but with excellent food (France, Italy?) and a more accommodating vibe (although I have to say the Egyptians love kids). But a European resort like that would be jam-packed in late July and we know from Dahab and Vassiliki that windsurfing in a traffic jam is no fun. Compromise has to be made on some levels and maybe food is just the way it has to be. Even though I was convinced this was our last Egyptian holiday I can actually see us going back already. Maybe not next year - perhaps we have to try Fuertaventura or Tarifa first - but sometime after that ...
Back to some semblance of a routine now then. Although the kids are in Summer School all week (9am - 3pm - imagine that!) so I'm concentrating on getting ahead in domesticity so that I'm not swamped in the 3 weeks of full-time parenting ahead of me.
Jody got her first visit from the Tooth Fairy on Saturday night. One of her bottom front teeth became wobbly on holiday and she held onto it until Saturday lunchtime when there were sudden floods of tears at its disappearance. We looked in her mouth and her sandwich and on the floor but the offending tooth was obviously rapidly on the way to her stomach, so we encouraged Jody to write a little letter to the Tooth Fairy to explain what had happened, and put that under her pillow. Luckily the ploy worked and there was a gleaming coin replacing it in the morning. Jody looks funny without her tooth. I can't believe she's on the way to an adult set of pearly whites. Seems too early to me.
Training Diary 21-27 July
M: 30 min treadmill run: 1% + 5 min @ 10, 10.5, 11, 11.5, 12, 1 min @ 12 + 2%, 1 min @ 12 + 3%, cool-down
1 hr sea swim
T: 1 hr windsurf
41 min treadmill run: 1% + 15 mins @ 9.5, 10, 10 min @ 10.5
25 min sea swim
W: 1:45 windsurf
50 min treadmill recovery run @ 9.5
T: 2 hr windsurf
25 min sea swim
F-S: off
Total: 3hrs 50 mins + 4hrs 45 mins windsurf = 8hrs 35 mins
Training Diary 14-20 July
M: 30 min windsurf
1 hr sea swim
35 treadmill min run pyramid @ 1% incline (replicates road): 5min warm-up; 5min @ 10, 10.5, 11, 11 + 2% incline, cool-down
T: 1.5 hr windsurf
35 min treadmill run pyramid to 11
1 hr sea swim
W: ill
T: 45 mins windsurf
1 hr sea swim
F: 40 mins treadmill run pyramid: 1% + 5min @ 9.5, 10, 10.5, 11, 11.5, 11, 10.5, cool-down
1 hr sea swim
S: 1 hr windsurf
23 min treadmill run (after 1 beer - impossible!)
1 hr sea swim
S: 1:45 windsurf
48 min treadmill run: 1% + 8min @ 9.5, 10 min @ 10, 15 @ 10.5, 5 @ 11, 5 @ 10, cool-down
Total: 8 hrs + 5.5 hrs windsurf = 13.5
lara : 10:50
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Thursday, July 17, 2008
A long time since my last update. I haven't had time really, to verbalise what's been going on these last few weeks. Too busy in the preparations for holidays and ends-of-terms and all that stuff.
I found appropriate dresses in the end, in the sale at Fenwicks. I plumped for a fairly classic Little Black Dress and a silk maxi dress in beige and cream. I resented the money spent only slightly less than the time and effort it took to find the damn things. It's been a very very long time since I've had to dress up, never mind twice in one weekend, and it shows in my wardrobe of jeans and t-shirts. I do casual with my eyes closed but anything more upscale is a challenge. It's not easy to find things that fit (I am not, after all, an off-the-peg size) ... worse when there's pressure of time as well.
The weekend was nice though. Not bad to be abundantly pampered and indulged on someone else's budget in a 5 star hotel. Much less pressure to conform to an itinerary than I would have thought too; just the two evening events (babysitter laid on) where it was a pleasure to finally meet Roj's partners in work crime. The kids had loads of fun. They spent a little time doing crafts and organised activities in the crèche and also packed in a horse-riding lesson (for Jody) and time in the spa swimming pool. On arrival Jody had the dubious privilege of throwing up in the lobby of the Four Seasons, after contracting a mild stomach bug from school (which disappeared after 24 hours, luckily). I think that'll be one tale to tell her first boyfriend.
Saturday's weather was good enough for us to do a run around the grounds - me lethargic after the previous weekend's cycling efforts followed by 2 (of 3) post-midnight soirées on the trot. We had to rush back too, for our scheduled spa treatments!
I thought I might have time the following week to pack in some training sessions and relax but I didn't even make it to spin on Tuesday night, my week was so full of stuff to organise; presents and dinner bookings for Roj's birthday on the Wednesday; leaving cards and presents for teachers at Jody's school including her beloved Miss Barton who received a little scrapbook full of Jody's words and pictures on why she's so special; holiday clothes for both kids for Egypt and plenty of cleaning up and preparation of the flat for my mum's Danish cousin and 2 sons who were staying at ours for a few days during our holiday.
And then Jody's field day to attend on Thursday afternoon. We watched from sunlit spectator seats while the whole school showed off their sporting prowess in activities from 100m sprints to high jumps to dancing and finally waving flags of all nationalities in time to appropriately chosen music such as Chariots of Fire!
Jody was in floods of tears to leave her teacher, inconsolable even with ice-cream. It was late though - the field day had run over, and she was tired, and the best thing to do seemed to rush her home for fish and chips and an early night to prepare for the following day's 6am start.
Meanwhile I was having a meltdown at Boots customer care for their inability to deliver my online order of sun cream and nappies, requiring that Roj heroically rush down to Oxford Street with a long list. But despite inevitable stress and long hours of packing, we were finally ready with bags twice as heavy and unwieldy as seemed possible.
And now we're 6 days into our Egyptian trip with another 8 to go. It's been good and bad so far. Bad because the food is horrible here. We know this; we've been to Egypt more than 10 times between us, but it still surprises us to be staying in 5 star accommodation and finding nothing whatsoever of any taste or in any way appetising from the elaborate buffet they construct each evening and lunchtime. Everything is fibre-less and stodgy and sweet; overcooked starches in greasy creamy sauces of indeterminate flavour; grey vegetables; dried-out meats and fish; a varied salad buffet that you eat at your peril because it's been rinsed in tap water that is unfriendly to foreign tums. The familiar vehement stomach cramps hit Roj on day 2, Jody on Monday and finally took me out on Tuesday afternoon.
The evening was spent with me in the agony of severe contraction-like cramps which woke me every few minutes through the first half of the night as my intestines strived to get rid of whichever evil foodstuff was disagreeing with it. Wednesday was not much better - the cramps had alleviated a little but my insides felt completely blowtorched and I could barely eat more than a few mouthfuls of crackers and cheese. Even today - Thursday - I'm struggling to find my appetite and swallow back the nausea I feel when confronted with that distinctive school dinner over-cooked buffet smell. But eat I must, or I can't keep up the regime of swim, run, windsurf I've been avidly following - where possible - since our arrival.
There's a great cordoned-off swim area here which takes nearly 10 minutes to swim along its perimeter. I've been doing 3 laps - that's an hour of swimming - each day since Saturday and intend to continue to the end. I tried running on Saturday too, but even though I left it til 5pm, it was still far too hot and oppressive to complete more than 25 minutes, along with the inevitable burden of dehydration. So I've deferred to the gym which though still hot, is air-conditioned to acceptability and since I've brought my iPod with me, I don't have to suffer through Arabic music for the duration. Shame my pulse meter battery's packed up though, and there are no timers on the treadmills so that I have to watch the Arabic news broadcasts on the small telly screens or inspect the seconds ticking by on the analogue clock on the wall. Hardly motivating. I'm glad to be running again though, since I haven't managed a good run routine since before my bike crash. My back still aches when I run, but I reckon a couple of weeks of short daily runs will probably ease that out of me ... and if not I know that I'll have to re-visit the doctors on my return.
And then the windsurfing. I think initially we were both a bit disappointed that the prevalent wind speed seemed to be around force 3 to 4, rather than the 6, 7, 8 we had at Dahab last year. And the centre is rather lamentably ill-equipped for intermediate and advanced sailors and rather limited in its sail area. But once we'd accepted the necessity to go out on 6.5 to 7.5 metre sails and boards of over 100 litres in volume, we really started to enjoy the easy cruisy sailing that becomes a possibility. And today ... despite my day off yesterday ... I did my first ever carve gybe which after 3 successive holidays of trying and many years of aspiration, is a bit of a coup. Let's hope there are more of those to come.
Training Diary 7-13 July
M-F: No time for training
S: 1 hr sea swim
25 min run - too hot
S: 1 hr sea swim
Total: 2 hrs 25 mins
Training Diary 30 June - 6 July
M: Rest day
T: Run to spin 15 min
Spin 60 min
Run from spin 15 min
W: Day off
T: Transitions session in gym: 3 x 10 min bike + 10 min treadmill
F: Day off
S: 50 min run @ base endurance
S: Day off
Total: 3h 50 min
I found appropriate dresses in the end, in the sale at Fenwicks. I plumped for a fairly classic Little Black Dress and a silk maxi dress in beige and cream. I resented the money spent only slightly less than the time and effort it took to find the damn things. It's been a very very long time since I've had to dress up, never mind twice in one weekend, and it shows in my wardrobe of jeans and t-shirts. I do casual with my eyes closed but anything more upscale is a challenge. It's not easy to find things that fit (I am not, after all, an off-the-peg size) ... worse when there's pressure of time as well.
The weekend was nice though. Not bad to be abundantly pampered and indulged on someone else's budget in a 5 star hotel. Much less pressure to conform to an itinerary than I would have thought too; just the two evening events (babysitter laid on) where it was a pleasure to finally meet Roj's partners in work crime. The kids had loads of fun. They spent a little time doing crafts and organised activities in the crèche and also packed in a horse-riding lesson (for Jody) and time in the spa swimming pool. On arrival Jody had the dubious privilege of throwing up in the lobby of the Four Seasons, after contracting a mild stomach bug from school (which disappeared after 24 hours, luckily). I think that'll be one tale to tell her first boyfriend.
Saturday's weather was good enough for us to do a run around the grounds - me lethargic after the previous weekend's cycling efforts followed by 2 (of 3) post-midnight soirées on the trot. We had to rush back too, for our scheduled spa treatments!
I thought I might have time the following week to pack in some training sessions and relax but I didn't even make it to spin on Tuesday night, my week was so full of stuff to organise; presents and dinner bookings for Roj's birthday on the Wednesday; leaving cards and presents for teachers at Jody's school including her beloved Miss Barton who received a little scrapbook full of Jody's words and pictures on why she's so special; holiday clothes for both kids for Egypt and plenty of cleaning up and preparation of the flat for my mum's Danish cousin and 2 sons who were staying at ours for a few days during our holiday.
And then Jody's field day to attend on Thursday afternoon. We watched from sunlit spectator seats while the whole school showed off their sporting prowess in activities from 100m sprints to high jumps to dancing and finally waving flags of all nationalities in time to appropriately chosen music such as Chariots of Fire!
Jody was in floods of tears to leave her teacher, inconsolable even with ice-cream. It was late though - the field day had run over, and she was tired, and the best thing to do seemed to rush her home for fish and chips and an early night to prepare for the following day's 6am start.
Meanwhile I was having a meltdown at Boots customer care for their inability to deliver my online order of sun cream and nappies, requiring that Roj heroically rush down to Oxford Street with a long list. But despite inevitable stress and long hours of packing, we were finally ready with bags twice as heavy and unwieldy as seemed possible.
And now we're 6 days into our Egyptian trip with another 8 to go. It's been good and bad so far. Bad because the food is horrible here. We know this; we've been to Egypt more than 10 times between us, but it still surprises us to be staying in 5 star accommodation and finding nothing whatsoever of any taste or in any way appetising from the elaborate buffet they construct each evening and lunchtime. Everything is fibre-less and stodgy and sweet; overcooked starches in greasy creamy sauces of indeterminate flavour; grey vegetables; dried-out meats and fish; a varied salad buffet that you eat at your peril because it's been rinsed in tap water that is unfriendly to foreign tums. The familiar vehement stomach cramps hit Roj on day 2, Jody on Monday and finally took me out on Tuesday afternoon.
The evening was spent with me in the agony of severe contraction-like cramps which woke me every few minutes through the first half of the night as my intestines strived to get rid of whichever evil foodstuff was disagreeing with it. Wednesday was not much better - the cramps had alleviated a little but my insides felt completely blowtorched and I could barely eat more than a few mouthfuls of crackers and cheese. Even today - Thursday - I'm struggling to find my appetite and swallow back the nausea I feel when confronted with that distinctive school dinner over-cooked buffet smell. But eat I must, or I can't keep up the regime of swim, run, windsurf I've been avidly following - where possible - since our arrival.
There's a great cordoned-off swim area here which takes nearly 10 minutes to swim along its perimeter. I've been doing 3 laps - that's an hour of swimming - each day since Saturday and intend to continue to the end. I tried running on Saturday too, but even though I left it til 5pm, it was still far too hot and oppressive to complete more than 25 minutes, along with the inevitable burden of dehydration. So I've deferred to the gym which though still hot, is air-conditioned to acceptability and since I've brought my iPod with me, I don't have to suffer through Arabic music for the duration. Shame my pulse meter battery's packed up though, and there are no timers on the treadmills so that I have to watch the Arabic news broadcasts on the small telly screens or inspect the seconds ticking by on the analogue clock on the wall. Hardly motivating. I'm glad to be running again though, since I haven't managed a good run routine since before my bike crash. My back still aches when I run, but I reckon a couple of weeks of short daily runs will probably ease that out of me ... and if not I know that I'll have to re-visit the doctors on my return.
And then the windsurfing. I think initially we were both a bit disappointed that the prevalent wind speed seemed to be around force 3 to 4, rather than the 6, 7, 8 we had at Dahab last year. And the centre is rather lamentably ill-equipped for intermediate and advanced sailors and rather limited in its sail area. But once we'd accepted the necessity to go out on 6.5 to 7.5 metre sails and boards of over 100 litres in volume, we really started to enjoy the easy cruisy sailing that becomes a possibility. And today ... despite my day off yesterday ... I did my first ever carve gybe which after 3 successive holidays of trying and many years of aspiration, is a bit of a coup. Let's hope there are more of those to come.
Training Diary 7-13 July
M-F: No time for training
S: 1 hr sea swim
25 min run - too hot
S: 1 hr sea swim
Total: 2 hrs 25 mins
Training Diary 30 June - 6 July
M: Rest day
T: Run to spin 15 min
Spin 60 min
Run from spin 15 min
W: Day off
T: Transitions session in gym: 3 x 10 min bike + 10 min treadmill
F: Day off
S: 50 min run @ base endurance
S: Day off
Total: 3h 50 min
lara : 13:35
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