Dan Wilson

DAN WILSON ---- Professional Athlete ---- Part-time Wordsmith

Saturday, December 31, 2011

Another Year In The Theme Park Of Life

Squires and wenches, on behalf of all the staff here at Word’s with Wilson (I do the writing, and my brain comes up with the ideas, so that’s two of us), I’d like to take the forthcoming numerological progression of humanities chronology to wish you all the best for the forthcoming year.
On a personal note, I’ll be doing my utmost to ensure I spend 2012 spending less time imitating a rugby touch judge (i.e. On the sidelines), and more time imitating a geometry professor (i.e. Testing my shape)
So, take care, and enjoy your 2012. Enjoyment is exemplified in Exhibit A. Although I can understand if many of you don’t get as animated about long rides, Boost bars, danishes and Pepsi Max, as Boxy and I do. Nevertheless, my point remains elucidated.
Take care friends,

Exhibit A

Monday, December 26, 2011

3 Weeks In The Life...

Further to the preceding rambling narrative detailing life on training camp, click here to check out a superlative video, courtesy of Sam ‘David Attenborough’ Betten. I'm the one with the big yellow helmet on the bike, the big yellow swim cap in the pool, and the big head of hair when running. 

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Pre-Seasons Greetings

Spirits of the season be with ye, kind readers. My gift to you is one last blog before yuletide, placing it neatly in between toe-socks and a knitted sweater featuring an animal of some description, in terms of how treasured such a bestowal should be received. 
South Golden Beach is done and dusted for another year, and was 3 weeks in the trenches grafting hard. Thus having capped off a big 3 weeks, at the end of a big 3 months, I’m having an easier week over christmas, and taking the opportunity to spend some quality time with the family, and more importantly, the Christmas Ham.
Unlike last year, which featured more casualties than Saving Private Ryan, this year was mercifully devoid of serious wounds, save for the paintball excursion held on the final day. Seemingly my paint-balling skills would sooner have me playing the role of “Rambo’s Cannon Fodder”, rather than Rambo, in any future triathlon-related action blockbuster. Consensus among the group whilst licking our wounds was, fun though it was, we’d stick to shooting our mouths off, rather than carbines. 

The 2 smallest arms in triathlon, in a battle of the biceps, pre-swim 

Boxy politely smiling, despite my fatigue induced insanity

Skill Tester - session was 4 x 5 reps, on the 2 minutes, max effort
Readers of the preceding syntax may have detected a slightly objecting tone in relation to the overload of precipitation in the first week. Fortunately, this disappeared for the second week, as did our bikes one evening, as our house fell victim to a ‘theft’. Victims of a low brow ‘gag’ from our training partners, who were evidently ignorant to whom they were trying to play a joke. Quickly getting the coaching staff onboard, the squad was informed at our next swim set that the police would be coming around to gather evidence, and interview our cohort for information. The culprits promptly turned paler than the cast of Twilight, and amongst more spluttering than the muffler of my Falcon. Quickly admitting to more guilt than the News Of The World trial, order was restored, although one of the bumbling thieves revealed his desire to maintain innocence, and dump our bikes in the nearest sand dunes. 
Amid racking up more ‘K’s’ than Kris Kristofferson’s biography, we took the opportunity on the camp to make some real progress on refining our technique and execution in skill based areas. Unfortunately for our triathlon careers, this revolved more around the Chocolate Factory Skill Tester, rather than any triathlon discipline, however we were fortunate enough to be tutored by Olympic Gold Medalist Sara Carrigan, and so we improved on both our cycling, and chocolate grabbing efficiency throughout the camp. 
In the idle moments between sessions I invested my time in writing improv songs with Jack, outsourcing blame like a multinational outsourcing labour when getting beaten on the Playstation, sampling Gentle’s baking products and working on size-related witticisms with Mitch to bait Boxy with. 
Training was great, with some prodigious volumes of work completed by our athletic menagerie. Highlights included;
  • 200km ride, the route and distance largely chosen so we could tell a joke about Boxy as we passed a landmark at Chillingham. Truth be told, it was a bit of a fizzer, probably not warranting almost 7 hours of riding. 
  • Questioning the ingredients in our caramel slices, ingested at the decidedly ‘hazy’ village of Nimbin, after which an hour of impromptu, and somewhat unnecessary time-trailing proceeded. 
  • Claiming the only untimed 50m effort of a sprint swim set was at least 2 seconds quicker than any of the timed efforts, and definitely faster than anyone else went all morning. Felt faster anyway. 
  • Reveling in the superior tactics of the ‘Cool House’, after absolutely dismantling a vastly outnumbered Matt Brown, in the ‘Dash for Cash’ up the Mullumbimby hill climb. 
  • Pretending not be scared by defiant kangaroos when running through Coombabah. Was seconds away from using Emma Jackson as a human shield. 
  • Reveling in the superior tactics of the ‘Cool House’, after absolutely dismantling a vastly outnumbered Matt Brown, in the ‘Dash for Cash’ over 50m in the pool. 
And so, like all your christmas gifts, the camp has now been wrapped up, and hopefully the fruits of our labour will present themselves when called upon later in the season.
Take care friends,

Friday, December 9, 2011

The Life Aquatic

Devotees of Words With Wilson will no doubt recall a previous, somewhat melancholic narrative detailing some precipitation filled times at our camps at South Golden Beach. And, like Christmas, doing my taxes, and being late with my taxes, it would appear getting damper than a teenagers gym bag, is fast becoming a annual ritual. As I sit here at my typewriter, my eyes are drawn frequently to the rising water surrounding my bed, and hands stray to the swim snorkel in my swim kit, which may soon provide a second, much more practical use than its typical technique based requirements.
Given that the ample training regime has provided significant demands on time, fatigue and motivation to put quill to parchment, I’ll keep this post brief. Also given that training has also limited any inspiration for original syntax, I will plagiarise a decidedly tabloid journalistic column, from a decidedly tabloid journalism paper (That’s right, I said it Courier Mail, refute if you can...). Behold, South Golden Beach, by the numbers....
100 - % chance that the elusively self-described ‘Cool House’ starring Mitch Kealey, Jack Hickey, Ash Gentle, and your humble author, will win the next available inter-house challenge, due to our superior intelligence, humor, physical prowess, and clearly evident arrogance
99 - % chance that rain will start 5 mins before our rides start
98 - % chance that aforementioned rain will stop as we do
30 - minutes left of a 5 hr ride in the rain, across potholes, gravel and dirt roads, without a crash in the bunch
25 - minutes left of a 5 hr ride in the rain, across potholes, gravel and dirt roads, before Matt Brown crashes on a flat, dry, straight section of road. Originally we thought he had ripped every muscle clean off his body, leaving only bone and sinew, but then we realised that’s the way he normally looks.
24 - hrs per day of ruthless (yet light-hearted) banter. Slightly mispronounce a word at your peril
10 - Dollar (AUS) cover charge to see the South Golden Beach house band (featuring J Hickey and D Wilson) playing throughout the day, featuring improv songs about riding in the rain, training, rain, and being wet whilst training.
2 - Seconds advantage I get on Jack every time he routinely misses a tumble turn in the deceptively long Mullumbimby pool. I need it...
1 - Thing more competitive than a sprint swim session. Playstation. No maple syrup has been chugged. Yet...
0 - Data collected by the malfunctioning SRM. Clearly there is no value in riding if there is no data being collected, so I’ll be having a spell until it’s fixed. 
That’s it for now, look forward to a more comprehensive review of the camp when my hands don’t lactate while typing.
Oh, one more number:
6 - hrs on the bike tomorrow morning. I’m going to bed. 

Further pictorials can be found at 'Cool House' member Ash Gentle's blog...