The Science of Stress

It's an ominous title that one isn't it?  Allow me to explain what I mean and how the effect is being felt ...

Since January of this year I have been in an interim role with my company, serving as the Quality Manager.  We manufacture contact lenses, which are classed as a medical device and are therefore subject to many regulations and laws regarding their manufacture.  This is all scary stuff!  It would also, were I fortunate enough to secure the job, represent a major promotion - so the incentive is definitely there.

As this is such a key role the recruitment net has been cast far and wide - not just within the company boundaries (global) but also externally.  Thankfully, I am now down to the last two candidates - statistically speaking I have a 50:50 chance.  The intention is for one final phone interview with the Global Head of Quality, which should take place this week - possibly with a decision being made by the end of the week ...

This all sounds very grand and very exciting ....

Do not be fooled dear readers.  This is playing bloody havoc with my training, both in terms of intensity and more disturbingly in terms of motivation.  I think the stress of not knowing is proving to be the worst thing.

Mind you, the inner mad scientist in me is finding the whole experiencing strangely fascinating.  How can a person go from being totally driven in their sport and their goal, especially with an impending Iron Man, one day and then go totally flat, energy less and unmotivated the next?  You could probably write paper after paper on the topic - in fact I'm sure plenty of sports-shrinks already have done?

I thought about going for a nice long run on Saturday to clear my head.  That's as far as I got ... thinking about it.  I felt so dead and unmotivated that all I could do was play on the damn Xbox and eat Mars Bars ... how crap is that!

Felt a bit better on Sunday though.  Got up and went swimming with James, who is now under the expert supervision of Dean. He swam his heart out and I was SO SO SOOO proud of him.  James has decided that triathlon may be the way forward.  Little steps ...

After swimming I went out with Jamie and Tamsin for a ride across the Downs and put in some real beastie hill work on a couple of killer hills ... lovely, especially as I rode home with the virtual polka dot jersey (see Tour De France for relevance of that last gibberish statement).  Not the longest of rides at 55km door to door, but at least I'd got off of my fat Mars Bar arse and done something.

And so, here I am, awaiting the important call details ....  So hopefully, the next time we speak, I will have found out one way or the other my fate.  Either way, a decision will have been made, and I will be able to get on with my IM training properly.

One quick note before I go.  I haven't mentioned my new toy yet have I?  My rollers no less ....

Ah - this picture doesn't really help does it?  I haven't been struck with some bizarre desire to alter my hair style to a curly top ... that would be bloody ridiculous and would make me look, along with all the Mars Bars, like some fat arse footballist from the North ....

No, I refer of course to the dark art of bike rollers - that genuinely terrifying prospect for all cyclists and triathletes to try to develop the art of, what the French call, souplesse.  Smooth, powerful and efficient riding.

Well, that's what the advertising blurb says anyway.  However, the terrible truth is that you sit on your bike atop 3 moving rollers and try your hardest not to throw yourself at the ground.  My first attempt - setup in the hallway at home - resulted in me not being able to let go of the picture rail, sweating heavily with absolute panic and a 200+ heart rate.  I think I may have left fingernail marks in the rails!  Attempt two - able to get up a reasonable amount of speed and ..., oh yes, think I've got it, bit wobbly but still upright.  Attempt three - getting confident now - can you see where this is going?  Up to full speed, feeling good, very confident, bit too confident ....., throwing in some deliberate wobbles and recovering it ...., massively over confident ...... CRASH !!!!!!!  Big heap in the hall, with me, the bike and rollers in a real tangle.  That HURRRRRRTT!!!!!  The author, Douglas Adams, wrote in The Hitch Hikers Guide To The Galaxy that the art of flying is very simple - all one must do is to throw themselves at the ground and miss ....  I can assure you that I threw myself at the ground at great speed and damn well hit it square on - no flight achieved.

Only one thing you can do in a situation like this .... get back on and ride .... and be VERY thankful that no one else was around to witness you getting 'baptised' by the rollers.

Will speak soon, hopefully with good news.  Until then, be good children.