January 2014 Scorcher – Ember Poisons an Angel.

I did, but more of that later. Thankfully, both Angels are alive and well despite my best efforts!

Today, Ember had an epiphany. At about 4.30am, (Ember can never sleep on a Scorcher morning), the wind was howling, the house was having the occasional non-earthquake related shake, the result of the more vigorous gusts. Bollocks, have to get up soon for a triathlon. Options, ring in sick, cry off, pretend the alarm did not go off, claim a medical emergency, the car would not start, the car was stolen, the dog ate my homework, had a bad curry last night etc. The option of rolling over and staying in bed was strong. Then, the inner voice said, “Oi fat boy, get up it is only wind, it is only a little triathlon which you have done n times before where n is a positive integer.” My self-talk sometimes has a mathematical predisposition. Indeed, I agreed. When starting this triathlon malarkey, the short distance seemed an achievement. Now, despite little training, (as per usual) an enthusiastically indulgent Christmas (as per usual), my internal narrative rationalised the situation, it is only a swim, bike ride and run in the wind. This was it, a self-belief, I can do it.

Moving on a few hours, Scorching bay was blustery in an old American Western sort of way, where there was a likelihood of tumbleweed purposefully rolling over transition. Transition was a bit quiet. Reasons are many, some still on holiday, some away for the anniversary weekend, many regulars off at Wanaka and Auckland, and some had a sick note from their mother. Funnily enough, the long distance rack was sparsely populated, but the medium rack was busting at its iron seams. No doubt some looked at Scorching bay and dropped a distance. Ember did entertain the idea of doing the novice course, doing it in 10 minutes, moving over to the café, order a Full English Curry, kick back and watch everyone else cycle back into transition with tortured faces. Inner voice came back “Harden up fat boy!” So I dismissed the imaginary aroma of a medium hot spice Malai Kofta with a side order of Egg Hoppers with a pot of Darjeeling and racked my bike on the long course rail. I then picked it off the ground after the wind blew it off, re- racked it and sorted my gear. Then, for the first time ever, Angel announced we would be starting on time. There is a knowing expectation from the regulars, that you have at least 10 to 30 minutes before the official start time as the marshals and traffic management crew have rang in sick, got lost, thought it was next week/last week, the dog had buried their shoes after eating their homework again. So suddenly, everyone on the long course got into the seal suits and went for a pre–race splishy splashy, euphemistically called a warm up.

So off we go, and the water. Was not too bad a swim to buoy one, two to three harder, three to the beach harder again, but nothing excessive. This was only a three gulps of seawater swim for Ember. More worrying was the swimmer behind me lap three. Getting a tug of the foot is not unusual. However, Ember has been reading about the pods of Orca in New Zealand. Apparently, there are three main pods, one cruises the north island, one the south and the third does the grand tour of Aotearoa. Now, according to observational research, they have grown curious of humans, although not threatening. One aspect is that juvenile Orca sometimes tow at divers feet, in a playful gesture of enquiry. With this fresh information in Ember’s psyche, a sudden grab and jerk caused an immediate panic, stall in swim stroke, a look back, then suddenly Ember was closer to the back of the field. Could whoever pulls my feet in the swim now and again please stop it.  I really should stop reading stuff which is sea and large aquatic creature related.

To the bike. Great start with a northerly. Experience knows this will not last and the airport road, Brooklyn hill will be horrible, as well as the other spots which can take your pace from 9kph to 5kph in a second. However, positive thinking Ember thought, just ride through it, it does not last forever. The longer course was distinctly quiet more than usual today. Riding was lonely.

The final change, with no hassle from the transition police. What has happened to transition, it used to be a place of fear where you knew everything you did was being watched. There was no official to tell Ember that he had transgressed transition by bringing his dog which had regurgitated his homework and shoes at the exit.

The run and the epiphany. Run was hard. Setting into a stiff northerly where the legs were screaming with cramps, forward motion seemed to have stopped and time was about to reverse. I thought, I should walk a bit. I should pack this in. Pulled a hammy, calf or blackhead from my nose.  Any excuse will do. Legs say “no”. Inner voice once again perked up. “Oi, Fat Boy! It’s only a 10k run.” That was it, only a 10 k run. Easy as. I did not hear from my homunculus anymore today, I did not need to as despite big wind, there was no stopping, albeit no PB either but did anyone PB?

The end, another Scorcher done. Have now done ?-x Scorchers where x is a very large integer tending towards ? which means Scorchers now complete, but not all of them.

Hard day out there today, good on you volunteers who marshalled in the sea and the road and who kept score. Thanks Angels, et al.

Great day.

So finally, how did Ember poison an Angel? Easy, with curry. Ember bumped into an Angel over the Christmas period. Being the season of good will, chocolate, beer and curry, Ember took an Angel for a curry. Not a regular curry but a fast food version which you will find in India. Ember suggested a Samosa Chaat, at $8, Ember is cheap!  Angel studied the menu carefully and agreed with Ember’s recommendation. After the food arrived, Ember laid into his exquisite orgy of gastronomic Indian delight, with the frantic urgency of a heroine user shooting up their next fix. Ember does have a curry problem. Ok, so I do the odd Saag, now and then, maybe the occasional Biryani.  I thought I could give it up anytime, I did not always needs it, or so I thought. “My name is Ember. I am a curryaholic.” After a while, I looked up from my plate of culinary happiness to Angel, who had hardly touched a thing, but was politely moving tempting morsels around his salver. Angel did eventually eat most food at which point Ember enquired, “did you like that?” Angel replied that they have a dairy allergy/intolerance. Bugger. Samosa Chaat does have a yogurt dressing. Still, Angel survived. How well Angel got through this episode is the subject of speculation and mirth. Heh heh!

Well done everyone today especially first timers and the winner of the Ember first timer recovery prize consisting of beer, curry and chocolate. (For legal reasons, beer was ginger beer just in case the winner was 12 years old. Ember does not want to be a cool dad.)

For the regular Scorchers/ettes who were not here today, “where the bloody well were yer?”  Doing an event elsewhere is a viable excuse, i.e. Wanaka and Auckland. For the rest harden up.

See you all in Feb. Let’s do it again.

Surprisingly, most of this report is true and not imaginatively fabricated as usual.
MMMmmm! Smells like the Moglai chicken is ready to serve.
Look up Smouldering Ember on Facebook. Ember is cheap, will be friends with anybody and everybody, except for those with a

Smouldering Ember 19th January 2014.