Ironman a Go Go

detest gardening, and just because I’m me, and for no other reason, I appear to have picked the worst piece of ground to embark on my first attempt at growing something outside. Bearing in mind that my garden is huge, this is quite a feat in itself.

Result so far.

I have become a standing joke in my street as my neighbours, plus various family members… now take great pleasure in telling me that they never knew I was into extreme gardening.

Well just for the record, neither did I!

I’ve been wrestling with a palm tree, and the sod thorned me right in the temple. My arms look like a teenage Goth’s cry for help, and my dustbin looks like it’s swallowed a triffid. Goodness knows how Keith Kirsten manages to stay sane.

Still, at least I can forget about it for another year. I finally have an easy care garden (now sans dead cat), that is all gravel and woodchip, with plants being restricted to planters.

IronMan in comparison to gardening should be a doddle.

This Sunday marks a big day in the Chris H IronMan quest. It’s the day of my first Triathlon event ever. (Or ‘Eva’ as the hip kids would say).

I’m feeling pretty upbeat and comfortable about it even though my legs are a mess of stiff muscles thanks to Kent’s track/lunge training on Tuesday night. I’ve done a couple of Duathlons already but never had the pleasure of swimming in the washing machine.

My swim on Monday night was a great confidence booster though, my bike is clean and oiled and my running shoes still have plenty of life left in them. So I’m sitting here like a tightly coiled sponge waiting for the big day to arrive.

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