So I am a coffee snob. Anyone who knows me would know that my ability to find a superior coffee within the vicinity in which I frequent directly impacts my immediate and foreseeable future.
My snobbery towards coffee would suggest my belief that Starbucks or any coffee chain serve mediocre and sub par coffee and should not receive my custom.
However, I am willing to release all of my caffeinated hang-ups for a 20-minute immersion in an experience that surpasses my desire for a quality coffee bean.
You walk in to any Starbucks and you could feel like you are anywhere in the world, you order from one counter, wait for your order to be called out from another, and around the world your coffee is served in the same over-sized white and green cup.
So what is it? What is it that sees this coffee lover lower such standards?
Well, it is pretty simple really:
I spot a Starbucks across the street in Surfers Paradise, and I am transported to 2009 when I was in New York City where everyday started with finding our closest Starbucks to plan our day, re-gather for more adventures or debrief our day over a skim flat white, and extra strong Grande hot chocolate.
I walk in to a Starbucks in the QVB in Sydney and I am transported to 2005 to Bondi Junction, my first year of university where I would sit and pour over books and feel completely overwhelmed, and questioning more than life choices. Then Mum would join me and the books were put away and the more important task of analyzing this season’s fashion walking back and forward was critiqued.
When I order my now Skim Flat white in George St Sydney, I am taken back to my first coffee experience, drinking a coffee put in front of me by a new boss. Staring at the liquid thinking I had to drink it for the sake of the job. It was a mocha, a drink my two friends let me consume for 8 months before they told me I need to mature as a coffee drinker and wouldn’t let me order anything other than a flat white.
I wait for my coffee order at a Starbucks in Mooloolaba, and wait for an alternative name to be called with my order (because the pain of listening to them stumble through “Siobhan” is too painful) it reminds me of all the bizarre nicknames I have received over the years. My year 2 class gave me Shanaby, my year 10 class gave me Seany, my university friends gave me Trashbag, surf club friends Shiv and variations including Shev, triathlon friends have avoided name association and landed at height associations resorting to Midget.
And I sit sipping what is probably more milk with water than coffee with milk and I am taken to the future. Some days when the world feels dark it takes me to the life I am planning to live, a life living as a journalist in New York, or as a professional triathlete travelling the globe.
Wow, all of this for the very low price of a $4 coffee? I am sure this is in Starbucks marketing plan somewhere, “to sell a culture” or some other version of marketing rhetoric. But in a sick sense it works.
This coffee snob (only every now and then) takes a trip down memory lane or checks out the freeway of the future with the help of a mediocre coffee – anywhere in the world.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Songs That Say Something...
Running one afternoon, I was tired and the 30 minutes I was out to run for felt about 90 and my mind began to wander. My iPod wasn’t filled with psyche up, fast moving music, in fact in many cases the opposite. There are a number of songs on my iPod that if anyone found it and played it with think I had lost the plot. But there are a number of songs on there that bring me to a place I can’t explain, and gives me an indescribable feeling – the only way to begin to describe them is as my own personal nirvana. In any case I will attempt to explain the music that makes my blood run a little warmer, give my soul life and is the eclectic soundtrack to my life.
Frank Sinatra - New York New York
This is a song that at 19 years of age, after a few glasses of wine had me waking up the entire house belting out this tune. It brought me to an imagined time in a wonderful city full of magic and bright lights. When I would hear this song, I would imagine myself in the streets of New York, in wine bars, at Broadway shows, being romantically wooed by a stylish 1950s gentleman. At age 22 when I stepped out of a taxi at 2am with Mum in the middle of Time Square – there were no romantic gestures but an excitement I had never felt before. My time in New York was amazing and sharing it with Mum in the midst of a gorgeous New York summer was something I cannot begin to describe.
Now when I hear this song running, it hardly provides a beat to step up the pace, but puts a smile on my face. It reminds me that the best things in life are free, and the moment that years of dreaming to visit New York became a reality is enough to keep this song on my iPod.
The killers - Mr Brightside
Perhaps this song is the song that means more to me than any other in the world. It was the sound track to my life at university. It was played on road trips with the girls, sung loudly in bars at 5am, and danced to at festivals as the sun set slowly behind the stage. But more importantly it is the song that reminds me of the first real friends that I met that love me with all my faults.
These people are wonderfully talented people who live life with such enthusiasm it is infectious. Some of the best moments that I have had in the past 8 years have been because of these people and this song. One particular moment was at a music festival and there were about 16 of us. We had all been separated but we made sure that we were all in the vicinity to see The Killers play. They are friends that I can count on through thick and thin, they are people who I do not see as much as I should and when I’m listening to my iPod this song comes on and I think about these wonderful people who make my life a little brighter knowing they are in it.
Edit Piaf – Milord
This song reminds that perhaps I was probably born a number of centuries too late and perhaps also on the wrong continent. My love affair with all things French is very cliché given I have never been there, and my pathetic attempts to learn the language see me still only being able to say, Je suis heureuse de vous connaitre (a very polite way of saying, ‘please to meet you’ and would more than likely only use it if you were meeting a French queen)
The wonderfully somber lyrics of a lonely woman set to the back drop of a wonderfully upbeat tune sums up my swirling mass of contradictions that exist within myself. To hear it takes me to a wonderfully romantic period that really is completely unrealistic and there was still misery, and ¾ of the way through a long run this makes me a little bit happier. I also like thinking what the people I pass would think if they knew I was ‘psyching up’ to a 1930s French alcoholic’s words.
Florence and the Machine – Dog Days are Over
The only thing harder than get up before 5.30am in the morning to train, is getting up at 5.30am to train in the dead of a Sydney miserable winter. The Monday, Wednesday, Friday swimming rut went something a like this: Alarm goes off at 5.30, stumble to bathroom, brush my teeth, kitchen to make toast and tea to take to swimming. Gather my belongings, question what F I am doing, and Callum would pull up right on 5.40 (don’t be naughty).
I would always get in the car in a terrible mood, Callum would sigh* and I know we both feel the same way. Flo would be cranked up and we would dance stupidly from Bronte to Ultimo on a completely natural high, before we emerged from the car having completed a vicious circle and we were both back to the point of questioning life choices.
This song reminds me of my wonderfully dear friend Callum, who is the voice in my head who says what I am thinking, but also the voice of reason when I need it. We may joke about our ‘ruts’ or how sad our lives are when it consists of Campos Coffee and Harris Farm Markets, but truly the day I met him, I met a friend for life!
Marina and the Diamonds – I Am Not a Robot
A very very new addition to my days, but a song that I fell in love with upon first hearing it. A song that resonated quite well with what was going on in my life when I first heard it. At the backend of the 2010/11 triathlon season, I was well and truly done with racing, I was exhausted, and very quickly losing focus and a head filled with a million and one things about where I wanted to go. However, I was too proud to admit this to anyone. Anyway, enough of the sob story, having this on repeat for about 3 weeks was enough to put a smile on my face and remind me that , “don’t be so pathetic, open and up and see that I am vulnerable… and guess what? I am not a robot.”
Lady GaGa - Telephone
An interesting song in it self, let alone as to why I like it. One freezing Sydney winter morning, as Dad and I drove over the harbor bridge to the dark side to ride through the Ku-Ring-Gai park, I played this song and as soon as it came on Dad started bouncing around like a mad man. My initial shock soon surpassed and I joined in. This was an amazing time for Dad and myself. As Dad embarked on his quest to complete an Ironman triathlon, he joined my training squad. To see the terrible conditions he endured, and the mental and physical hurdles he overcame to compete was nothing short of inspiring. To see Dad cross the line at Busselton made me so proud to see what my Dad can achieve.
So, really I am not inspired by a beat or rhythm, I am inspired by the wonderful people I have in my life. This I know is true. Everyday I will receive a call or a text or some other 20th century communication from a wonderful person. This reminds me that whatever we achieve is nothing without people to share it with.
Frank Sinatra - New York New York
This is a song that at 19 years of age, after a few glasses of wine had me waking up the entire house belting out this tune. It brought me to an imagined time in a wonderful city full of magic and bright lights. When I would hear this song, I would imagine myself in the streets of New York, in wine bars, at Broadway shows, being romantically wooed by a stylish 1950s gentleman. At age 22 when I stepped out of a taxi at 2am with Mum in the middle of Time Square – there were no romantic gestures but an excitement I had never felt before. My time in New York was amazing and sharing it with Mum in the midst of a gorgeous New York summer was something I cannot begin to describe.
Now when I hear this song running, it hardly provides a beat to step up the pace, but puts a smile on my face. It reminds me that the best things in life are free, and the moment that years of dreaming to visit New York became a reality is enough to keep this song on my iPod.
The killers - Mr Brightside
Perhaps this song is the song that means more to me than any other in the world. It was the sound track to my life at university. It was played on road trips with the girls, sung loudly in bars at 5am, and danced to at festivals as the sun set slowly behind the stage. But more importantly it is the song that reminds me of the first real friends that I met that love me with all my faults.
These people are wonderfully talented people who live life with such enthusiasm it is infectious. Some of the best moments that I have had in the past 8 years have been because of these people and this song. One particular moment was at a music festival and there were about 16 of us. We had all been separated but we made sure that we were all in the vicinity to see The Killers play. They are friends that I can count on through thick and thin, they are people who I do not see as much as I should and when I’m listening to my iPod this song comes on and I think about these wonderful people who make my life a little brighter knowing they are in it.
Edit Piaf – Milord
This song reminds that perhaps I was probably born a number of centuries too late and perhaps also on the wrong continent. My love affair with all things French is very cliché given I have never been there, and my pathetic attempts to learn the language see me still only being able to say, Je suis heureuse de vous connaitre (a very polite way of saying, ‘please to meet you’ and would more than likely only use it if you were meeting a French queen)
The wonderfully somber lyrics of a lonely woman set to the back drop of a wonderfully upbeat tune sums up my swirling mass of contradictions that exist within myself. To hear it takes me to a wonderfully romantic period that really is completely unrealistic and there was still misery, and ¾ of the way through a long run this makes me a little bit happier. I also like thinking what the people I pass would think if they knew I was ‘psyching up’ to a 1930s French alcoholic’s words.
Florence and the Machine – Dog Days are Over
The only thing harder than get up before 5.30am in the morning to train, is getting up at 5.30am to train in the dead of a Sydney miserable winter. The Monday, Wednesday, Friday swimming rut went something a like this: Alarm goes off at 5.30, stumble to bathroom, brush my teeth, kitchen to make toast and tea to take to swimming. Gather my belongings, question what F I am doing, and Callum would pull up right on 5.40 (don’t be naughty).
I would always get in the car in a terrible mood, Callum would sigh* and I know we both feel the same way. Flo would be cranked up and we would dance stupidly from Bronte to Ultimo on a completely natural high, before we emerged from the car having completed a vicious circle and we were both back to the point of questioning life choices.
This song reminds me of my wonderfully dear friend Callum, who is the voice in my head who says what I am thinking, but also the voice of reason when I need it. We may joke about our ‘ruts’ or how sad our lives are when it consists of Campos Coffee and Harris Farm Markets, but truly the day I met him, I met a friend for life!
Marina and the Diamonds – I Am Not a Robot
A very very new addition to my days, but a song that I fell in love with upon first hearing it. A song that resonated quite well with what was going on in my life when I first heard it. At the backend of the 2010/11 triathlon season, I was well and truly done with racing, I was exhausted, and very quickly losing focus and a head filled with a million and one things about where I wanted to go. However, I was too proud to admit this to anyone. Anyway, enough of the sob story, having this on repeat for about 3 weeks was enough to put a smile on my face and remind me that , “don’t be so pathetic, open and up and see that I am vulnerable… and guess what? I am not a robot.”
Lady GaGa - Telephone
An interesting song in it self, let alone as to why I like it. One freezing Sydney winter morning, as Dad and I drove over the harbor bridge to the dark side to ride through the Ku-Ring-Gai park, I played this song and as soon as it came on Dad started bouncing around like a mad man. My initial shock soon surpassed and I joined in. This was an amazing time for Dad and myself. As Dad embarked on his quest to complete an Ironman triathlon, he joined my training squad. To see the terrible conditions he endured, and the mental and physical hurdles he overcame to compete was nothing short of inspiring. To see Dad cross the line at Busselton made me so proud to see what my Dad can achieve.
So, really I am not inspired by a beat or rhythm, I am inspired by the wonderful people I have in my life. This I know is true. Everyday I will receive a call or a text or some other 20th century communication from a wonderful person. This reminds me that whatever we achieve is nothing without people to share it with.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
A 4 Month Haitus.... Siobhan Who?
So I could write some awesome post about how much racing I have done and how hard I have been training...but I am 100% sure anybody anywhere with any sort of goal would be doing the same as me, and no one wants to hear long race reports, and excuses why one didn't win the race they probably should have or how awesome they are with all the races they are winning
In between 2 separate camps in the 1st week of January, Matilda's Mum, Sam met us in Canberra whilst we waited our flight to head to a Triathlon NSW. Whilst I dragged them both to Parliament House (Matilda was LESS THAN IMPRESSED) We sat in the House of Reps discussing all of life's tales. Sam told us that everyday we had to think of 5 things we are thankful for. So I thought I would leave out the triathlon talk, and the other stuff and outline 5 things I am thankful for.
1. Mum & Dad - they are by far my biggest fans. In fact Canberra Half Ironman saw them both sporting numerous blisters on their fingers from ringing cowbells. They are the ones who offer me the "nice cup of tea" when I need cheering up, tell me to stop whinging when I am tired, and listen to me rant about every odd observation I make about anything.
2. A piece of paper and pen - I can talk ALOT, and could probably talk under water with enough practice. The amount of rubbish that I talk is probably 30% of what actually runs around in my head. Being able to write my thoughts, my dreams, my hopes, my fears gives me perspective on everything. One day I hope my internal monologue will amount to something resembling somewhat a piece of readable prose, as opposed to utter nonsense.
3. A good pair of sunglasses - The way we see the world can be brightened by a fun pair of sunglasses. If it makes someone laugh, or you become the butt of a joke, you know life 'aint so bad. Quite often I wear purple glasses, heart shaped glasses, clear glasses to training or even out. Why? Well, why not? If the look of a footpath looks brighter through a pair of multicolour aviators - that 2hr run just got a whole let less monotonous.
4. Music - my iTunes is stacked with every genre to suit my every mood. I have Beethoven to inspire me -The greatness of a large orchestra with every instrument playing to create one tune reminds me that greatness doesn't happen alone, but a collaboration of many. A bit of Eminem to fire me up, Celine Dion for the romantic Siobhan, Willow Smith for when I just need to 'whip my hair back and forth' And most importantly the band of all bands The Killers, the sound track of my life - without my eclectic collection of music, my life would be too quiet and I would be lacking in any form of inspiration.
5. Coffee - My daily ritual of a coffee reminds me that the most simple things in life don't cost a lot. I love my morning coffee with friends, or by myself, at the same cafe, with the same talk. The 30 second flick through The Telegraph whilst the coffee is brewed and the first sip of coffee is my favourite part of any morning.
So, as I continue training, racing, working & running around like a headless chook, it is nice at the end of every day to remind myself of what I am grateful for. I am thankful for lots, and reminding myself of this make the dark days not so dark and the bright days even brighter.
So when you see me sitting in a coffee shop, sipping coffee, iPod on, wearing ridiculous looking sunglasses, having just spoke to my Mum or Dad on the phone, you know that so long as I have these simple things - life is pretty damn good!
In between 2 separate camps in the 1st week of January, Matilda's Mum, Sam met us in Canberra whilst we waited our flight to head to a Triathlon NSW. Whilst I dragged them both to Parliament House (Matilda was LESS THAN IMPRESSED) We sat in the House of Reps discussing all of life's tales. Sam told us that everyday we had to think of 5 things we are thankful for. So I thought I would leave out the triathlon talk, and the other stuff and outline 5 things I am thankful for.
1. Mum & Dad - they are by far my biggest fans. In fact Canberra Half Ironman saw them both sporting numerous blisters on their fingers from ringing cowbells. They are the ones who offer me the "nice cup of tea" when I need cheering up, tell me to stop whinging when I am tired, and listen to me rant about every odd observation I make about anything.
2. A piece of paper and pen - I can talk ALOT, and could probably talk under water with enough practice. The amount of rubbish that I talk is probably 30% of what actually runs around in my head. Being able to write my thoughts, my dreams, my hopes, my fears gives me perspective on everything. One day I hope my internal monologue will amount to something resembling somewhat a piece of readable prose, as opposed to utter nonsense.
3. A good pair of sunglasses - The way we see the world can be brightened by a fun pair of sunglasses. If it makes someone laugh, or you become the butt of a joke, you know life 'aint so bad. Quite often I wear purple glasses, heart shaped glasses, clear glasses to training or even out. Why? Well, why not? If the look of a footpath looks brighter through a pair of multicolour aviators - that 2hr run just got a whole let less monotonous.
4. Music - my iTunes is stacked with every genre to suit my every mood. I have Beethoven to inspire me -The greatness of a large orchestra with every instrument playing to create one tune reminds me that greatness doesn't happen alone, but a collaboration of many. A bit of Eminem to fire me up, Celine Dion for the romantic Siobhan, Willow Smith for when I just need to 'whip my hair back and forth' And most importantly the band of all bands The Killers, the sound track of my life - without my eclectic collection of music, my life would be too quiet and I would be lacking in any form of inspiration.
5. Coffee - My daily ritual of a coffee reminds me that the most simple things in life don't cost a lot. I love my morning coffee with friends, or by myself, at the same cafe, with the same talk. The 30 second flick through The Telegraph whilst the coffee is brewed and the first sip of coffee is my favourite part of any morning.
So, as I continue training, racing, working & running around like a headless chook, it is nice at the end of every day to remind myself of what I am grateful for. I am thankful for lots, and reminding myself of this make the dark days not so dark and the bright days even brighter.
So when you see me sitting in a coffee shop, sipping coffee, iPod on, wearing ridiculous looking sunglasses, having just spoke to my Mum or Dad on the phone, you know that so long as I have these simple things - life is pretty damn good!
Monday, September 27, 2010
An Interesting Start To The Season
So I could probably come up with a long list of excuses, and reasons why I felt terrible, and all the coulda shoulda woulda's but let's be honest... I CHOKED.
Forster - Two days of racing. Pro Tour Saturday, Olympic Distance on the Sunday - there was plenty of nerves, a week of sickness, and freezing early morning starts.
I made plenty of rookie errors, and learnt to dig deep, and feeling under done and still being able to push is worth the pain. I have become a much stronger athlete, compared to the noisy kid who rocked up to the Centennial Park Flag Poles a year ago, who was more interested in getting coffee after training than doing any work to warrant the latte sipping. Going in to both races the way I felt a year ago, I would have pulled out, and cried and said oh well. But a mentally tough off season, an amazing support network of my family, and probably the greatest training partner along with my biggest rival made sure quitting is NOT an option.
I walked away with a 5th in the Pro Tour, and a 4th in the Olympic, 2 terrible swims, 2 ok rides, 2 not so bad runs, and a partridge in a pear tree.
I have to congratulate Matilda on an awesome two days of racing, the hard work is paying off, and giving some great athletes a real run for their money. I felt like a proud Mum on the weekend :)
But, I am back, summer is here and I am excited that the only way for me to go is up - because surely one can not be that much of a muppet for an entire season...
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Fending For One's Self
So, the parentals have taken a leave of absence and headed west, to Perth for Dad's work. This has been a revolutionary experience for a number of reasons:
1. I am more lazy, than I first thought - I would be quite happy to go without food, rather than walk the 20m to the garage to get bread to make lunch. Whilst I may justify my actions (or lack thereof) with the quest to be a skinny triathlete, the sub text of that is that I am lazy.
2. With parents away, and a large bed, with panoramic views of the beach, along with foxtel - a took up residency in their room. Televisions in bedrooms are a bad idea, I am more than happy to watch the same episode of Entourage or How I met Your Mother (which I have seen many times before) twice in the same night only two hours apart. I am either easily entertained, or have a memory like a gold fish.
3. Although I can cook, and would be more than happy to do so, my brother Johnny and I have survived 10 days without cooking a dinner, and have not been eating take away. AND the prospects for the remaining few days look like they will follow suit. This points out that our family feels incredibly sorry for us, and more than likely think we can't cook for ourselves, and if we did we would give ourselves food poisoning (rightly so given previous episodes)
4. I find my own company bland, and overrated. Coming home after training to a quiet house with Johnny already in bed or at work, has left me talking to myself - so I have since gone mad, and realise if my constant talking annoys me, I feel sorry for all my friends who put up with me.
5. I pretty much have the world's greatest family. My parents are like my best friends, my little brother acts like my big brother looking after me, and my dog; Barney is like my little brother (who is very cute)
6. Despite my age of 23 whereby I should be deemed completely independent from my parents - generally speaking I am a tired and needy athlete who is quite happy to admit - she would probably be lost without them :D
1. I am more lazy, than I first thought - I would be quite happy to go without food, rather than walk the 20m to the garage to get bread to make lunch. Whilst I may justify my actions (or lack thereof) with the quest to be a skinny triathlete, the sub text of that is that I am lazy.
2. With parents away, and a large bed, with panoramic views of the beach, along with foxtel - a took up residency in their room. Televisions in bedrooms are a bad idea, I am more than happy to watch the same episode of Entourage or How I met Your Mother (which I have seen many times before) twice in the same night only two hours apart. I am either easily entertained, or have a memory like a gold fish.
3. Although I can cook, and would be more than happy to do so, my brother Johnny and I have survived 10 days without cooking a dinner, and have not been eating take away. AND the prospects for the remaining few days look like they will follow suit. This points out that our family feels incredibly sorry for us, and more than likely think we can't cook for ourselves, and if we did we would give ourselves food poisoning (rightly so given previous episodes)
4. I find my own company bland, and overrated. Coming home after training to a quiet house with Johnny already in bed or at work, has left me talking to myself - so I have since gone mad, and realise if my constant talking annoys me, I feel sorry for all my friends who put up with me.
5. I pretty much have the world's greatest family. My parents are like my best friends, my little brother acts like my big brother looking after me, and my dog; Barney is like my little brother (who is very cute)
6. Despite my age of 23 whereby I should be deemed completely independent from my parents - generally speaking I am a tired and needy athlete who is quite happy to admit - she would probably be lost without them :D
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Greetings From The Underground
In the last month I have left my full time job, been away for a bit of R&R, started a new job and have upped my training incredibly.
So I am hardly surprised that I have hit a low point. I like to refer to it as a hole that I have tripped and fallen in, and I am jsut slowly climbing my way out. So how did it happen?
1. 4 full weeks, of back to back sessins - clocking some awesome kms in swim, bike & run.Probably forgot to breathe and take things slower in my off times.
2.I didn't listen to my body, when instead of going ice skating, and dinners, and shopping and goodness knows what else - I should have been resting, and recovering.
3. Monday morning's open water session at Clovelly made me feel like I was going backwards, and spent the rest of the day dwelling on how bad I felt in that session.
4. I slept for a good 14 hours, missing riding, and then had to miss running on Tuesday. As I dwelled on the the number of missed sessions, I began to panic, and no matter what I was getting up in the morning to run and swim.
5. I began a 40min hill set only to be stopped by the Coach after 20mins, as he tried to save myself from myself.
6. Straight after this I tried again in the surf, and with a rogue 6ft set rolling through, and getting absolutely pummelled I actually thought I was going to drown!
I knew unless I did something to get back into a happy space - I could get really sick, or end up in a really negative place. And NOTHING is productive when there is lots of negativity.
So I went home, had a great coffee with my Dad, and slept the best 2 hours sleep I have had in a LONG time. I then went to work, and thought happy thoughts about the session to come that night.
I jumped in the pool and found my happy place in the water. I felt relaxed, and like I was floating - I was waiting to feel rubbish, and it never really came. I couldn't help but laugh that my weakest leg is now very much becoming my happy happy place. Running which is my strongest leg, doesn't feel peaceful like it used to.
This morning, I slept in and had a coffee on the beach at Bondi, and realised that if this is a dark hole, then I don't really have much to complain about. I know this may sound like I am just complaining, and many athletes have been through much much worse. But this was the first of big downs I have been through as an athlete.
As I have been told you need to be in the valleys in order to get to the mountain tops. AND I am hoping that I am now starting to freshen up and 'come good' as they say. This is all part of the journey and the bad times make the good times that much sweeter.
So the head noise has settled, and now looking forward to getting back into things. First step is track tonight, and if things don't go so well, it may just have to be another session at 80%...
And have things to look forward to and focus on. These are...
The City 2 Surf - ALWAYS a great day, and have a goal time to focus on... The rest will have done me the world of good.
Girl Time on Saturday - My Mumma and I are going to be girlie in the afternoon, no cap or goggles, or runners, or bikes - just lazy lunch, and getting our nails done.
Summer - Can not wait for the warm weather, and the sun to shine, and sneaky post training swims at Bondi make the days just that little much brighter...
AND
My Little Bro is home from a 3 week camping trip today, can not wait to go and catch up with him, and hear all his crazy stories...
The moral, as much as the last week as been mentally draining, not every challenge as an athelte is physical. The mental games that I will continue to play with myself will make me stronger, and i am determined to get through them to be the very best athlete that I can be.
So I am hardly surprised that I have hit a low point. I like to refer to it as a hole that I have tripped and fallen in, and I am jsut slowly climbing my way out. So how did it happen?
1. 4 full weeks, of back to back sessins - clocking some awesome kms in swim, bike & run.Probably forgot to breathe and take things slower in my off times.
2.I didn't listen to my body, when instead of going ice skating, and dinners, and shopping and goodness knows what else - I should have been resting, and recovering.
3. Monday morning's open water session at Clovelly made me feel like I was going backwards, and spent the rest of the day dwelling on how bad I felt in that session.
4. I slept for a good 14 hours, missing riding, and then had to miss running on Tuesday. As I dwelled on the the number of missed sessions, I began to panic, and no matter what I was getting up in the morning to run and swim.
5. I began a 40min hill set only to be stopped by the Coach after 20mins, as he tried to save myself from myself.
6. Straight after this I tried again in the surf, and with a rogue 6ft set rolling through, and getting absolutely pummelled I actually thought I was going to drown!
I knew unless I did something to get back into a happy space - I could get really sick, or end up in a really negative place. And NOTHING is productive when there is lots of negativity.
So I went home, had a great coffee with my Dad, and slept the best 2 hours sleep I have had in a LONG time. I then went to work, and thought happy thoughts about the session to come that night.
I jumped in the pool and found my happy place in the water. I felt relaxed, and like I was floating - I was waiting to feel rubbish, and it never really came. I couldn't help but laugh that my weakest leg is now very much becoming my happy happy place. Running which is my strongest leg, doesn't feel peaceful like it used to.
This morning, I slept in and had a coffee on the beach at Bondi, and realised that if this is a dark hole, then I don't really have much to complain about. I know this may sound like I am just complaining, and many athletes have been through much much worse. But this was the first of big downs I have been through as an athlete.
As I have been told you need to be in the valleys in order to get to the mountain tops. AND I am hoping that I am now starting to freshen up and 'come good' as they say. This is all part of the journey and the bad times make the good times that much sweeter.
So the head noise has settled, and now looking forward to getting back into things. First step is track tonight, and if things don't go so well, it may just have to be another session at 80%...
And have things to look forward to and focus on. These are...
The City 2 Surf - ALWAYS a great day, and have a goal time to focus on... The rest will have done me the world of good.
Girl Time on Saturday - My Mumma and I are going to be girlie in the afternoon, no cap or goggles, or runners, or bikes - just lazy lunch, and getting our nails done.
Summer - Can not wait for the warm weather, and the sun to shine, and sneaky post training swims at Bondi make the days just that little much brighter...
AND
My Little Bro is home from a 3 week camping trip today, can not wait to go and catch up with him, and hear all his crazy stories...
The moral, as much as the last week as been mentally draining, not every challenge as an athelte is physical. The mental games that I will continue to play with myself will make me stronger, and i am determined to get through them to be the very best athlete that I can be.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Bondi Barefoot
Well, this race was in fact ages ago. But I had a win, and this race was on my home beach, and in front of all my club mates at North Bondi Surf Club - so I need to blog about it, perhaps the way an emo kid would blog about their pain.
Yes I am going to do it1 No I'm not going to do it... But given that after a week of terrible weather in Sydney, the prospect of facing 3 hours on the bike, in the pouring rain, wine and arctic weather conditions - a good excuse would be to race.
Given that I was under orders I was still to ride - I jumped on the wind trainer for 2 hours, woke the family up and managed to watch a movie, and consume breakfast on the bike.
As I made my way down to the beach, the quads were burning, the pre race coffee wasn't going down well - and with people telling me how well I am going to do after my race at The Aussies. I was filled with fear...
My old coach Scotty Thomson was calling the race and was on the microphone, and after giving me a pep talk on and off the microphone, I knew all I could do was run and see how I felt.
A mass start and hundreds in front of me, including about 15 girls - I had to back myself, knowing that I would run a good race if I negative split - or atleast be able to keep the coach happy.
After the first kilometre - I found a guy's footsteps to follow that was comfortable, and there were no girls around me. at the 2km turning mark, I was well under record time - My first thought was that I was going to blow up, but thought I felt good, and would lift and see how I went.
To my surprise, as the race went on I felt faster, and crossed the line as the fast female and top 10 overall and even better - the course record by a good 35seconds over 4km.
Of all the races to win, The Bondi Barefoot has the most sentimental value - I am now in our club's history books, and I was the first club member to win the race.
This race was at the end of May and very late on the blogging, but I have photos. All shortcomings in cyber world can be blamed on the delayed receipt of photos... Here are photos
Yes I am going to do it1 No I'm not going to do it... But given that after a week of terrible weather in Sydney, the prospect of facing 3 hours on the bike, in the pouring rain, wine and arctic weather conditions - a good excuse would be to race.
Given that I was under orders I was still to ride - I jumped on the wind trainer for 2 hours, woke the family up and managed to watch a movie, and consume breakfast on the bike.
As I made my way down to the beach, the quads were burning, the pre race coffee wasn't going down well - and with people telling me how well I am going to do after my race at The Aussies. I was filled with fear...
My old coach Scotty Thomson was calling the race and was on the microphone, and after giving me a pep talk on and off the microphone, I knew all I could do was run and see how I felt.
A mass start and hundreds in front of me, including about 15 girls - I had to back myself, knowing that I would run a good race if I negative split - or atleast be able to keep the coach happy.
After the first kilometre - I found a guy's footsteps to follow that was comfortable, and there were no girls around me. at the 2km turning mark, I was well under record time - My first thought was that I was going to blow up, but thought I felt good, and would lift and see how I went.
To my surprise, as the race went on I felt faster, and crossed the line as the fast female and top 10 overall and even better - the course record by a good 35seconds over 4km.
Of all the races to win, The Bondi Barefoot has the most sentimental value - I am now in our club's history books, and I was the first club member to win the race.
This race was at the end of May and very late on the blogging, but I have photos. All shortcomings in cyber world can be blamed on the delayed receipt of photos... Here are photos
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