Tunney's Blog

Thanks to much fine work from The Man With The Tan I’ve managed some short swims, runs and bikes. All of which were slower than pre crash sessions and all of which felt as if every movement was being accompanied with a blow with a hammer to the back. Step – *WHACK* – Step – *WHACK*…..I’m practically addicted to pain killers – the only way I can sleep and, much sympathy to my significant other, I am a demon to live with.Still, everything is paid for and medical advice is that I can’t make anything worse by doing it so I’ve decided to try and HTFU and give it a lash. Sensible? Smart? Maybe not. But I’m going to start and play the hand I have been dealt. IM is meant to hurt I’ve been told.

Flight leaves tomorrow morning – time to overpack.

I’ve still not slept since the accident due to back pains and training has been almost non-existant. I lost my swimming goggles and had to buy a new pair. I tried them on at home and the absolute agony. I didn’t know that my left eye socket was bruised, battered and swollen as well. Only trying on the googles showed this. After I tried the googles I noticed that even touching the eye socket is agony. I must really have planted my face in the bus and/or ground.

So yesterday was a pain filled day of hell and all I could do was look at the turbo through tear filled eyes. Today was a liitle better in that I managed to sit on the turbo but that was the end of the good news.

Power and heart rate so far off normal that I binned the session after 25 minutes. Better than my last attempt but not good. People keep telling me to stay positive but its hard when nothing is going right.

F*cking stupid f*cking bus.

I’m sitting here looking at my bike and looking at my turbo thinking about the session I’m meant to do. Its not looking likely as I can barely type without tears of pain rolling down my face. My back muscles are killing me and watching telly is about the limit my pain threshold will stretch too right now. less than ideal.

This time last week I was lying in a hospital bed very much disconnected from reality. A training spin around my usual haunts of the back of the airport ended in disaster when a bus over took me and slammed on the breaks cleaning me out of it. I’ve no memory of the accident or the following few hours but I’m told I arrived in hospital pumping blood and unconcious. They took fantastic care of me in A&E and the wife was looked after well when she arrived and started to get sick at the sight of all the blood. Seemingly when she arrived at A&E she asked “Where is my husband David Tunney” and was told “Oh they guy who keeps asking about his bike”.
Countless tests and x-rays later I was released after a day or two (again memory very hazy, still not back properly). Seemingly I was pushing for collar bone x-rays as I knew that was the most likely break site and it was sore. When the x-rays came back with a break to the left one Glenda asked the doctors “What does this mean for his ironman race in 3 weeks”. The doctos said “not going to happen” and seemingly I puked there and then on the spot when told.

I’ve been home a few days now and haven’t succcessfully trained since the accident and haven’t slept in four days. Pain is fierce.
Thankfully the bone is showing signs of healing and my bike turned out to be okay. My helmet is completely shattered and given the unconsiousness and concussion i suffered with it on I think its safe to say I would be dead without it. My shades also shattered which is why I have about 20+ stitches on my face. Won’t be going for that brand again. All my cycling gear was destroyed too, all my good triMonkey stuff ripped to shreds.

I tried one training session – yesterday, a turbo, I had to get off once the work starteed about 1:10 in. Too hot, too tired and too weak. Not a happy camper.

Up bright and early Sunday morning and out with some of the lads for the Wicklow 200. I was tired and fatigued from the start. By 160km I was dropped my the people I was riding with and struggled the last 50km home. Finished the day absolutely shagged. Monday was a case of survival – rode to work and was getting dropped by grannies on bikes with shopping baskets. Managed a 45 minute swim yesterday and am still shagged today. Back is killing me and I can’t stop eating, well I can but only when I’m sleeping. 13 hours riding last weekend to round off the IM training. Not sure I could take anything more.

The forecast for Saturday looked shocking, but I just couldn’t believe it could be that bad. Got up at 7am to check the weather, lashing. Back to bed in the hope it would stop. Same again at 8am. And 9am. Went to town with herself. Still lashing. In the end I settled on doing a turbo session instead of my long ride. Was meant to be a 180km ride, or about 5:30. Set up shop in the shed and prepared a few upbeat films to try and stay motivated. First two hours were done easy, entertainment supplied by Rock’n'Rolla. Bad film but perfect for the occasion. Next two hours were done at IM pace, enterainment supplied by Transporter 3. An even worse film but even more suited to the occasion. The final two hours were to be done above IM pace. By this stage I had gotten through 10 750ml water bottles and four jerseys. The sweat was bucketing off me. My film choice let me down, 30 days of night was a bad film and inappropriate to the occasion. I managed to do a few intervals at above IM pace but at 5:10 done I called it a day. 15 minutes run off the bike – got soaked.

Count the steps. Count the revolutions. Count the strokes. It’s a habit that I got into some time ago to help myself hit a rhythmn. Unfortunately with the volume of training I’ve been doing recently it’s all gone a bit too far and I’m counting everything I see. Very strange.

OCD aside things are going well. A good brick yesterday morning and an okay swim in the evening. Swim wasn’t actually the best but given the amount of fatigue I’m not surprised. After the swim my right heel was absolutely killing me. I put it down to the bruising I picked up in Kilcock being aggreviated by going barefoot on the pool deck. Thought nothing much of it but mentioned it to “The Man with The Tan”. Two minutes later all pain was gone. A spasmed calf muscle from pushing off the wall arseways when tired.

A recovery bike today – enjoying the nice weather while we have it. Rounded the day off with my last long run before Austria. 36km in the Phoenix Park. Only three more days to get through. Pity the weather for the weekend looks to be wet and cold and windy. Oh well at least with only three days to to it will be easier to HTFU and get the sessions done.

……… I’d be Sleepy. Absolutely wrecked these days. Alarm went off yesterday morning for a hard long bike. Very very nearly binned it and went back to sleep. As it was I slept in and ended up late for work. The session would normally not be THAT intimidating but given the level of fatigue in the body I thought I wouldn’t be able to do any of it. Amazingly the body responded well and I spanked the entire session. Happy days. That only left an hour easy run at lunch, or so I thought. Just before heading out for my run I double checked the session – it was in fact an hours hard running – and it hurt. Nearly there now…..

Swim: 10000 metres, 3:31 hours

Bike: 432 km, 15:11 hours, 8970 kilojoules

Run: 74.3 km, 5:55 hours

Other: 0:45

Total: 25:22