I won’t say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, just don’t expect too much too soon. At least that’s the experience of this old dog who has tried to learn two new skills this week.
I’ll deal with the first one first. With my first olympic distance triathlon just over a week away, I tried to get into a wetsuit. It was a disaster. I didn’t time it – which is a good thing as it would have been too depressing – but more worryingly I couldn’t actually get into it at all. Eventually the arms and legs went in but I couldn’t do it up at the back.
To be honest, I rather panicked at this point. It’s a second hand Ebay special that I was sure I’d researched carefully but it seemed clear that I’d bought a size too small. I went back to the manufacturer’s website and that confirmed that I hadn’t made a mistake – I am pretty well in the middle of the ranges for height and chest size and at the lower end for weight.
Unfortunately, the suit did not know this and it steadfastly refused to do up. Having got hotter than I might after a couple of hours’ cycling I did the only sensible thing – I gave up. At this stage I was expecting to have to abandon the triathlon completely as it will be wetsuit-compulsory and I felt too mean to go and buy another.
I tried again the following day, sure that I’d lost weight overnight – or that my technique would have miraculously improved. It hadn’t. I’d like to think it was simply due to my manly chest but, having been a cyclist for a few years, I’m a rather more Chris Froome than Arnold Schwarzenegger in that department.
I swallowed my pride and asked help from my wife who seemed pleased to be getting her own back after years of needing help to get into evening dresses and necklaces. It worked. Sadly, it fits so well that, far from making me appear sleek and lithe, it highlights bumps and lumps that I didn’t even know I had. I thought it might have a slimming effect like a corset – instead it just magnifies the bits that shouldn’t be there and mocks the bits that should be bigger. I was also rubbish at getting it off. I’ve watched the Brownlees and they don’t seem to have the same problem – how could that be?
The only good news is that I eventually went online to get advice about putting a wetsuit on. The site I found says ‘get a helper to do the suit up’ so perhaps I shouldn’t have worried in the first place?
I’m wondering if I should drive to the triathlon wearing the wetsuit. The problems are obvious: the final nerve-induced visit to the gents; death by overheating on the journey; explaining it to the Police if stopped or to the petrol station attendant if low on fuel.
They say transition is the fourth discipline in triathlon. Sadly, for me, that may mean it takes as long as any of the other three.
Second new trick tomorrow.