The New Season

Other Half and I have been away skiing, just back yesterday. It does surprise me that Other Half even wants to go skiing, what with the inherent physical dangers it offers and what the possible resulting injuries might do to the preparation for the new season's triathlon events. The visibility this year was pretty poor all week with the exception of two days - we saw the Blood Wagon more times this holiday than all of the previous ski trips we've been on added together.

But we go nonetheless and Other Half loves it. As do I. It's the one physical activity where we're both at a comparable level. Well, pretty much. Technically I suppose you would say that Other Half is better than me - as he's skiing along you can practically hear the cogs turning as he makes sure that each turn is precise and is executed exactly as it should be. I have a more random approach which basically comprises getting down the slope as fast as I can not really worrying about what I look like. This means I attack the moguls with much more gusto than Other Half - I'm waiting for him at the bottom as he thinks about the puzzle of how to get down them in the most intellectual way. I just go for it. He's better at the red slopes. I panic about the ice. He just skates over it. But it works for us and for one week a year, in the physical/exercise sense, we are the same.

This year's trip was not without injury however. I always feel blase (I can't locate the accent to put over the 'e' here - please excuse me) and full of confidence on the first day and like to ski off and over stuff when I can. Ditto for Other Half. Unfortunately, he didn't notice the 5 foot drop from the edge of the piste (which I avoided) and whilst landing with the thump of a twelve stone man, managed to mash his thumb right into the ground rendering it pretty much redundant for the rest of the holiday. 'Thumbgate' is now much better thank you, but I knew straight away what he was thinking. Is this permanent damage? (As he kept comparing the swollen size of it to that of the other, more normal sized left hand thumb). Will I ever be able to undertake a fast transition again? Will I be able to hold onto my handle bars properly? Will this affect my swimming technique?

When he gets an injury it always makes me remember how much this triathlon stuff means to him. It makes me not feel such annoyance at my weekends being written off because of the training sessions (not that actually I mind this too much - it means I can get through loads of episodes of my new favourite vice in peace - SATC) as I can see how totally gutted he would feel if all of his hard work were to be wasted. If something which was out of his control impacted on how he were to perform. And so we go on.

Today's task is to decide which events to enter for the new season. There is so much to consider: the date of the event; if this is a Saturday or Sunday; can we get up there beforehand to suss out the cycle course (of course I say yes at this as it's a cheeky chance of a nice weekend away); what are the gaps between each event.... it goes on and on. Our study has turned into a military planning room. There are print outs of the courses and google earth open and triathlon-planning paraphenalia everywhere. I just leave him to his spreadsheets of results and times and cross references and go and make him a cup of tea. Behind every strong triathlete, there is an even stronger triathlete widow.