Dan Wilson

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

Friday, February 24, 2012

Terrestrial Transport Twenty-Twelve

Now, I believe we’ve come the point in the continuation of this blog, where it has become salient to give apposite recognition to those who have taken upon themselves to support the journey of your faithful author. To put it less eloquently, it’s time for a sponsor shout-out. At this point I imagine most readers to be rapidly backtracking their search engine as quickly as manual dexterity and broadband width permits, or perhaps smiling smugly to a friend or significant other, whilst rubbing thumb and forefinger together in a rudimentary evocation of a cashed-up, soul selling, bean counter.
However, a college recent informed me that many of the pundits out there are quite interested in the brand of choice that the ITU cognoscenti wield, and despite that the same persons arsenal of ‘facts’ included also confided that ‘3 out of 4 domestic dogs are racist’, I’ll choose to take his former information on board, whilst leaving the latter to further cognation. 
So without further ado, welcome to Terrestrial Transport 2012, a very indebted encapsulation of the premier constituents of my land-based endeavors for this year. 

Cannondale EVO. Unbelievable new rig providing a superlative juxtaposition of stiffness and light weight. For comparison purposes, the bike weighs roughly as much as the beverages placed alongside. (Note: Not currently endorsed by the beverage company in question, inquiries are welcome, I’m a Sprite Zero man myself)

Brooks. Diesels to the right, Premium Unleaded to the left. Effort put into the ‘Diesel's’ usually produces a linear equation to the velocity of the ‘Premiums’.

That'll do for now. Look for more plugs than a sink factory in blogs to come…

Take care friends,

Friday, February 10, 2012

Sleep High, Train Slow, Part Three: The Return Of The Tenting

Welcome friends, as another trivial post edges us closer to the commencement of the season. If any communiqué upon the grapevine is to be heeded there has been a change of training among the majority of athletes, eyeing off the start of the season like an appetizing, yet challenging sized meal. If the introduction of copious amounts of intensity into respective programs has been anything like mine, then one can rest easy in the knowledge many athletes in the triathlon coterie share my current hobbies of whinging about sore muscles, swearing at my calves at the start of each run, and every now and again, completely blowing up.
The last few weeks have seen myself somewhat imitate a wandering vagrant, sampling the training wares on offer at both the AIS HQ on the Gold Coast, and the open water mecca of the Sunshine Coast, featuring the dry wit of Mitch Kealey, and the wet deluge of Mudjimba respectively. 
Capping off my parody of a wayfaring vagabond, I’ve put the icing on the proverbial cake by assuming my position on top of Mt Brendale once again, with the oxygen depriving help of the altitude tent. Those of you not cognisant with my penchant for indoor tenting, can make themselves conversant with my situation in this preceding post.  
Thus deeming myself a veteran of the hypoxic home, allow me to indulge myself by passing on a few tips for anyone planning such domicile modification in the future. 
  • Turn off any ceiling fans prior to assembling tent, lest you inadvertently commence a game of what I like to call ‘Tent Pole Pinata’
  • Eradicate garlic, chilli, prunes and baked beans from your diet. The tent is small, and airflow negligible. Enough said. 
  • Mental approach to spending idle time in the tent is crucial. Playing the harmonica, or throwing a baseball against the wall aka ‘The Great Escape’ leads to a negative mind-frame, and a more arduous sentence board.
  • Leaving a trail of M&M’s leading into the tent provides the sometimes necessary encouragement to enter ‘lockdown’ that extra 30 mins earlier of an evening. 
  • Explaining to my (or potentially ‘your’) still-perplexed ‘civilian’ housemates the indoor tent’s function as a cure for acute agoraphobia, is slightly easier than a physiological based explanation.
  • Imagining a graceful dive into the small slit to enter the tent, and practical implementation of such a dive, result in two completely different final scenarios.  
My elaborate accommodation will last until 10 days out from the Oceania Champs down in Devonport, my first major race of Season 2012. Before then, chances are I’ll have a hit out at a local USM race, which could possibly lead to a Wideos With Wilson feature, which is sure to excite the many pundits out there...
Take care friends,