Via a transatlantic text I was directed to collect Teenage Triathlete’s new sunglasses from the opticians, they had sent her confirmation that they were ready at the Metrocentre, so I thought I’d swing by there on the way to training at Durham.
Now for those of you who are unfamiliar with the geography of the Tyneside area, this was a bit of a dogleg from Ebchester, but I had a decent amount of time (or so I thought) and I had some other things I needed to pick up.
I collected the Ray Bans and headed off to the apple store to see if one of its Genii could provide a solution to a problem I’d had this morning with my new laptop (no they couldn’t, call yourself a genious?) As I was walking out I glanced at the time and realised I had only 32 minutes to make it to swimming at 17:30.
I negotiated the ginormous roadworks from the Metrocentre to the Angel of the North, parked up, changed and wondered onto a strangely quiet poolside, bit strange it wasn’t like this last Saturday. Mystery over as I was told I was too early and the adult Tri session didn’t start until 17:30.
But it was 17:30 wasn’t it? eh no it’s only 16:30 oops more encroaching senility obviously, and for the first time in living memory Binge turns up at a session way earlier than she needs to. Clearly there’s a temporal distortion somewhere between Vision Express and the train station in the Metro centre or more likely probably between my right and left ear.
Nothing for it but to drop into the public lanes (there was an empty one) and use the time to clawback some of this year’s missing metres. There were a couple of swimmers in the next lane swimming clockwise, so I set off anticlockwise.
About 20 minutes in there I was swimming along quite nicely not bothering anyone when bang I received a rather painful punch in the face as a bloke clattered into me. He then proceeded to advise me that I was swimming the wrong way round.
I tried to point out that I was swimming in synch with the next lane but to no avail, his body language screamed I was a woman what would I know, as he furiously pointed at the sign at the end of the lane, which I hadn’t noticed as I set out, and sure enough I was swimming in the wrong direction. The miserable misogynist stayed in for a whole 200 metres and then disappeared (after I’d lapped him twice).
As you might’ve guessed a 2 hour swim session is not a very clever thing to undertake at my current level of fitness, and the flat out bits were swum at a rather glacial pace, definitely a garbage yardage session.
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1000 warm up alt 100 free, 100 ba, brst, drill, IM
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4 x 200 @ 4 mins pull
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4 x 50 breast drills
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2 x 125 50 pull, 25 kick, 50 swim
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150 swim
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200 @ 10″s RI
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2 x 50 drill @ 10 s RI
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2 x 25 kick @ 10 s 200 @ 10″s RI
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300 @ 10s RI
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2 x 50 drill @ 10 s RI
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2 x 25 kick @ 10 s RI
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100
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200 free easy @ 20 s RI
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4 x 50 @ 20 s RI Progressive
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2 x 100 flat out @ 1 min
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200 free easy @ 20 s RI
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4 x 50 @ 20 s RI Progressive
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2 x 100 flat out @ 1 min
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200 swim down
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4700 metres
Bingeswimming 