Like the sands draining through a egg timer, the day ticks ever closer to Ironman. For every minute closer the doubts and fears well up. For once I’ve managed to not find solace in a spreadsheet of training I should be doing and have actually managed to get out there.

I’ve had a good month in May, relative to the previous, the switch to bike focus is beginning to work but it’s not easy. The challenge is still the time it takes to get it done rather than the distances, or so I like to tell myself.


I’ve managed two decent rides in the last couple of weeks, the feeling of achievement is pretty good, chalking off just under 40 miles a piece. Then reality bites and I realise I need to do nearly 3 times as far, preceded by a frenetic swim and suffixed by the little matter of a marathon to finish the day.

The weather helps, there’s something quite relaxing about drifting down country lanes with the sun beginning to break through the trees. So the question is, can I keep up the intensity, whilst I’m sat eating crisps and wondering why my legs ache this afternoon, it’s a key question!