Post 101 - Poetry and songs

Another blog post consisting of copying and pasting and minimal input from myself...

Some people ask me about triathlons and Ironman, and how things are going. My Ironman career certainly hasn't gone to plan. It's a bit of a disaster story really. One bad race? Fair enough, you have bad races. Two bad races in a row? Well, OK, things don't always go to plan. Three bad races in a row? Four? Five? Six in a row? Really? You couldn't make this stuff up... 

Below is an email I sent to someone at work. Not great reading really...

To qualify for a “slot” at the worlds, you need to be in the top few percent of your age group in a regional race. Qualifying slots at each regional race are allocated to age groups depending on the number in the age group relative to the total number of entrants in the race. You never know where you need to finish to get a slot, but you can make an estimate based on previous years. Top 6 is a good guide, although in 2016 they are reducing the number of slots available per race, so I guess top 3 would be a good guide for 2016. There’s a big difference between top 6 and top 3…

Ironman UK 2011 (pre-London) – done on  crap, cheap bike, didn’t have a clue, 11^th in age group, good enough to plant the seed but ran out of money and couldn’t afford to try again.

Ironman UK 2013 – now working in London, got a new expensive bike, was winning my age group with 10 miles left to run, started explosive vomiting and diarrhoea with no warning. Likely food poisoning from the hotel. Collapsed, game over, ambulance etc. 

Ironman Wales 2013 – a few weeks later, not fully recovered, finished 5^th in age group. 5^th had been good enough at Ironman UK a few weeks previously. But slots only went to 4^th in Wales. Some slots “roll down”, because some people decline their slots for whatever reason – already qualified, for example. Usually a handful of slots roll down. Went to the roll down ceremony. No slots rolled down. Gutted.

Ironman UK 2014 – I moved up to a tougher age group. I trained hard and was very fit, far better than in 2013, was looking to mix it with the pros. 2 weeks before the race, had a sports massage. Ended up in hospital for 3 days with horrendous leg infections. Went to the race anyway. Had nothing. DNF (Did Not Finish).

Ironman Wales 2014 – not fully recovered, went in desperation more than anything, the wheels came off halfway through the marathon when I was in 6^th. 6^th would have done it. I couldn’t hang on. I don’t know where I finished.

Ironman UK 2015 – went through the 7-month build-up again, was optimistic going into the race. Monsoon conditions, freezing cold, windy. I was frozen, and my power output was terrible. Bad circulation in my frozen hands meant I couldn’t feed myself nor drink (both essential…) This sounds like excuses, I’m not making excuses, it wasn’t my day, but I’m skinny and don’t go well in the cold. I train indoors in 25-30 degree heat, I go well in warm conditions, not in cold.

Ironman Wales 2015 – trying to salvage my season, didn’t feel well the week before the race, ending up vomiting in the swim hanging off a lifeguard canoe, got frozen, got brought ashore, game over.

Unforgiving sport…?!

The guy I sent this email to is a very good guy - honest, sincere, hardworking, pride in what he does. No pretences. I've been having a few pints in the past few weeks. One night after work we were walking to the station after a few pints. Talking about whatever random stuff came into our heads. He asked me if I liked poetry. Actual written poetry, as opposed to "poetry in motion". I'm a big fan of poetry in motion - a top cyclist in full flight. A top marathon runner hammering the last mile. A snooker player making a 147. A tennis player whipping a forehand right across the court. Whatever it is - seeing a sportsperson (or indeed a tradesperson or craftsperson) at the top of their game. It looks effortless but a lifetime of work has gone into it. Brilliant.

But actual written poetry? I'm not a frequent reader of poetry, but I do play the guitar and sing. I'm not going to pretend I'm any good, but I can play a few Irish songs, folk songs, and crowd pleasers (e.g. Brown Eyed Girl). These traditional classics are poetry. One of my favourite bands is an Irish folk-rock band called the Saw Doctors. One of their frontmen said the way they go about writing songs is that they first write a few lines of poetry, then try to put a few chords to it, then give it a tune, then write more of the poem, then tweak and add and edit and so on, until at the end of the process, there's a song.

So I gave him some half-drunk answer about songs and poetry and blah blah blah. I wondered why he had asked. Turns out he writes poetry, inspired by whatever he sees or experiences in daily life. He handed me his phone, on which was one of his poems. I did my best to read it while tottering towards the station and trying not to crash into anyone else. Or any lamp-posts. It was really good. I asked him if he publishes his stuff. He doesn't. He should. 

Next morning, I had the following email:

John,

You have done what many never dream of doing,

You have tested what many of man may never try.

It is these drops of blood, sweat and tears,

That puts you ahead of others.

It differentiates you from the non-tryers,

From the non-doers,

You my friend have faced the unforgiving nature that is the ironman,

This you have pursued whilst earning a living,

And having in life a goal and a plan,

Instead of watching things fizzle at the bottom of a coke can.

Someone doing in excess to balance out some of the zero shits given,

To a job that is just as unforgiving.

It’s no sob story that I have read,

It’s a story of a fighter born and bred.

You give your heart and soul to everything that you do and that’s what matters the most, win or fail you gave it your all and nothing less. In my opinion for what it’s worth that’s what counts.

Not that I have any sort of an ego (I hope I don't), nor that I was looking for sympathy or anything, but the words were good. Maybe I (or he) should send this to the Ironman corporation. I remembered the conversation we'd had about poetry the previous evening. I replied to his email with the words of a Saw Doctors song entitled "To Win Just Once". Pure poetry:

To win just once would be enough
For those who've lost in life and love
For those who've lost their guile and nerve
Their innocence, their drive and verve
For those who feel they've been mistreated
Discriminated, robbed or cheated
To claim one victory inspired
To win just once is their desire

To win just once, to win just once, to win just once, that would be enough

To win just once against the odds
And once be smiled on by the Gods
To race with speed along the track
Break the tape and not look back
To never have considered losing
As if to win is by your choosing
Bare you soul for all to find
An honest heart and an open mindTo win just once, to win just once, to win just once, that would be enough

So come all ye fulltime smalltown heroes
Cast away your inbred fears of
Standing out from all the rest
The cynics and the pessimists
The self-indulgent almost rich
The blatant hurlers on the ditch
Time is passing so come on
And face the ball, the game is on

To win just once, to win just once, to win just once, that would be

It's a great song. The second verse in particular. To win just once against the odds. Once be smiled on by the Gods. And so on. I don't even have to win just once. I only need to be in the top 3 (or top 4 or 5 or 6 or 7 or 8 depending on what race I enter and depending on luck). It's a very good live song, here's one of the best versions - St Patrick's Day, Sydney, Australia, 2010. I was at the gig. Back in the glory days...