The Road to Noosa

Run, Cycle, Swim. And repeat.

I have days when I love running, days like Monday when I feel my legs twitch with abundant energy, ready to get out there and pound the pavement, grass and sand. I arrive home to a sunny warm day and get into my running gear, pop in my earphones and off I go, the last stretch along the beach with waves rolling in making me feel like I'm in an ad for something. Something good.

And then there are the days when my brain says "must do the required number of sessions for the week" and my legs say "get stuffed". Invariably the brain wins, and the legs suffer to be tortured with the addition of cycling to the mix. At the end though the somewhat prolonged shower is heavenly relaxation.

Cycling is reliably fun. I'm used to the lycra cycling gear now that I never used to wear and which makes me look like a pro. I'm also used to the Frenchman's chant "be careful on the road" usually following more reports of people who have crashed their bikes. Tightened helmet and flashing lights I'm off; and when not I'm cycling on rollers in my living room with considerably less gear, but all these points of pressure have given me new understanding of neuroanatomy and I'm very thankful that the rather regular genital numbness is only transient.

The pool however is a stress free event, no concerns, no worries, I can't get enough. Love it, it's my superchilled element. Needless to say, it's the area I least need to be in preparation for this triathlon that rapidly approaches.

I have a laundry basket filled with sweat-scented shorts, shirts, singlets, towels, bike gear and hyperchlorinated swim gear. There are a collection of grease stains on too many of my clothes, showing up along side young Amélie's food bits at times when I least expect them.

Despite the super-training I've been increasing in weight. I expected to lose a few kg but have gained 3.5 . But I feel leaner than ever.

Oh, and my brother's training is also going well, which means I have to train harder! I'm the underdog right now but I need to make sure I'm not after the race! I'm not sure I have the numbers I need just yet, but I have until October 31st. The road to Noosa continues.

Stone Age Gay

I've become one of those old people!

In the past few weeks I've discovered I'm doing things I only thought old people did. I start the car and find ABC Radio playing, the once-popular 2Day FM with it's nauseating gossip and overplayed K & J-O has been usurped by diverse ranges of subject matter a wide range of music (not always my choices but at least diversifying) and intelligent DJ's. Oh and politics is actually interesting, at least more so than the details of which celebrity did.... oh who cares.

I'm enjoying father's day - as a father. And I'm supporting my parents probably more than they support me, which is at once confounding and liberating.

I'm also celebrating anniversaries that have numbers like 15 in them. Bloody hell, 15 years with The Frenchman! Bring on 15 more I say.

I'm also finding the years going a whole lot faster, am buying safer cars, am managing home renovations, again, and training for mid-life crisis triathlons with one eye on the prize, and one eye on managing the joint aches and pains that seem to be hindering my launch at the said prize.

And I'm loving it.

I see the younger editions coming out, and envy the bodies that have a surprising absence of wrinkles and folds, but not the self confidence issues, financial crises or relationship dramas to follow.

Youth is wasted on the young it's true, but life as an old fogey ain't so bad.