Fabian’s planket

I love Fabian Cancellara’s tweets, this one is a recent favourite “@f_cancellara Our rooms they have 2 beds.There is a distance betwinn. but this night o’grady stolen my planket.Because he had cold.i taket back ;-)”

I got thinking about planket, it’s a really descriptive word which sums up the core exercises I am doing at the moment, it conjures up thoughts of bricking it, something that happens when you have to get down to the nitty gritty of doing “the plank”.

The plank in effect is making your body into a tabletop and supporting yourself through your core, get yourself into the starting position of a pushup and then hold it, hold it, not yet, hold it. Maintaining just two contact points with the ground, your hands and your feet.

How hard could that be (looked easy in the pictures), so for added effect I got this suspension system, it really is an exercise piece of equipment, I promise. All that’s needed is to hook your feet into the system so they are a couple of centimetres off the ground, then off you go, “planket”.

Within 20 seconds my two contact points became three, with my belly on the ground like a humilated banana. Followed by hysterical gales of laughter meant as I was now stuck in suspended animation and remained there until the laughter abated. I daren’t say how I got myself out of such a sorry state, by needless to say, thankfully their were no witnesses to my disentanglement.

So if you need to planket, follow Fabian’s advice just “taket back” from O’Grady.

A bike under my mattress

Panic time in the lead up to exams would often result in superstitious antics which didn’t bear any fruit. It didn’t stop us putting school books under our pillows hoping for a magical osmotic transference of knowledge from the books into our brains overnight.

Being easily distracted, where an abundance of energy meant sitting behind a desk studying was near impossible, the only way to get through volumes of study material was to have an incentive programme. One block of chocolate per chapter, a movie a the end of the week, a run when I re-sited the right stuff. Ironing, something I have avoided for the past 7 years because it’s a loathsome task, became an attractive distraction.

So why am I looking at the price of ironing boards online? Feeling a little overwhelmed after closely analysing the 2011 Giro route, taking my ironing board and burying it in the sand along with my head seems like a great option. 50,000m of climbing lie ahead, that’s climbing Mount Everest 6.5 times in 3 weeks, twice each week and on two days, we’re close to summiting Everest with a whooping 6,500m in one day where the kindness of the organisers overwhelms with a generous 230km in which to complete our “summit”.

Standing at the foot of my bed, wondering how to get my bike under the mattress in the hope that some osmotic transference will magically happen overnight.

When dreams come true

Imagine having your dreams come true, winning the lottery, getting that dream job in the Cayman Islands – you’d be hard pressed not to be over the moon. One of my dreams has come true, so why am I suffering with heart palpitations and hyperventilation?

Life would be so much easier if I had normal dreams like normal people, but NO I have to have these crazy, harebrained ideas that sound like a great idea at the time. Only when reality sets in there’s a mild panic followed by, OMG why did I tell anyone I was going to do this.

Just to clarify, I’m a normal (questionable at this moment in time) person with a regular job, who cycles the types of rides other normal people ride. I had this crazy dream to ride a grand tour, they paint such a lovely picture of the event, beautiful weather, riders sweeping through the sunflowers, flying up mountains, taking glory over the finishline. What’s not to love about it and if they can do it, surely so can I. Problem is “they” are men and their job is to ride their bikes all day.

Well reality has set in. I’m about to embark on 18 E’tape du Tours literally back to back. I’m discounting the 3 days of time trials because they are shortish days. With an average of 166km per day, 9 plus 200km stages of which 4 are in the high mountains, the only question I have is where is the eject button on my bike.

 

So all that’s left to do now, is to fund raise and train my cotton socks off. Right coach, where’s that evil plan you have for me.