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With a tent kindly loaned to me by friend and colleague Adri and her husband Emile, and a relatively lightly (by my usual ‘hopeless packer’ standards) packed car, I made the most of having Thursday off and set off for the east coast early, determined to miss the queues at the border. A pleasant journey via Masafi – one of my favourite drives so far in the UAE – with a quick stop off at Lulu for some last minute food items and a spur of the moment camp chair purchase (I soon discovered at the beach that I had in fact purchased a child-size chair!) I pressed on to collect my border papers, only spotting the direction sign by fluke and at the very last minute, before waiting no more than ten minutes whilst my papers were verified and the car searched for alcohol – none was found incidentally.
The evening before my race was a fairly relaxed affair, as it should have been, and after a brief exploration of the hotel – it didn’t take long on account of actually being pretty small – I made friends with a group of team 50 relay runners from Doha, Qatar (the ‘Not so dashing expats’) and joined them for a couple of beers. One of them, it was soon pointed out, bore an uncannily striking resemblance to a certain President of Russia, which provided some mirth. Fellow Dubai athlete, Chops Potter, and friend Marcus Smith, who is currently preparing for the epic Marathon des Sables in April, arrived later in the evening and I joined them at their camp for a quiet nightcap before everyone retired for an early start in the morning. The solo 72’ers were all due to set off at the early hour of 0430 and I did poke my head out of the tent to see them off before catching another hour of much needed sleep. My race wasn’t due to start until 0900, although I would have much preferred to start earlier in order to miss the real heat of the day. Still, at least I wasn’t having to run 72km!
Even more members of the Dubai scene arrived, with Doris taking part in the 50km solo and Taka and Tyrone joining me on the 30km race. When they both suggested that I should be aiming for a podium place I dismissed their vociferations as fanciful niceties, especially given that I am not a seasoned trail runner and was sure that the field for our race was playing host to many very fast runners. With that in mind, and a plan to just enjoy myself, I set off finding myself leading the charge and quickly remembering to focus on keeping my heart rate at a sensible and sustainable level, especially with the fact that it was to be a long race. Within about 2km the eventual race winner, Doha-based athlete Stephen Gurr, passed and was soon very much in the distance, with a couple of other runners catching me and so it was that we stayed together for about the first 5km. The funny thing about races is that regardless of what your intentions or objectives for the event, a race is still a race and we are all naturally competitive people. As such, it wasn’t long before you could feel the pace quickening and the temptation to match the renewed speed, knowing full well that to do so may well result in problems later down the line. I therefore made a decision to stick to my plan, keeping my heart rate below 180bpm and essentially allowing the two guys with me to charge ahead. My thoughts were that they were either significantly fitter than me, in which case bravo and good race, or they were making a strategic error and I would be passing them later in the race. It seems I chose wisely as it wasn’t long before I duly passed both runners. Who’d have thunk it – plans do usually work!
Heeding the advice of coach, Trace, I duly hopped – or rather collapsed into – the cool waters of the hotel pool, determined to loosen the legs up, before donning the trusty compression tights and gobbling down some protein and cool drinks. The short siesta I took in my tent – complete with prime views out of the open door to the finish – was serene, and as I dozed I allowed my thoughts to wander back over the race. I’d intended to listen to music, even wearing my ear buds the whole way round. However, as it turned out I actually ran without any music, and so was able to really listen to my body, and focus on my race strategy, which I suspect helped a great deal.
It was a year ago that I decided to sign up online to do my PADI Rescue Diver course, the natural progression after Advanced Open Water and a qualification that I had heard was well worth doing. A year whizzed by, with the occasional dive thrown in but nothing much done about the course owing in large part to the sudden draw on the majority of my spare time that has come with training for my Ironvet race in September.
With the online course about to time out it was time to knuckle down, do some studying and get the course finished, which I duly did, and then booked my practical training with Freestyle Divers in Dibba. The course covers everything from how to recognise potential risks whilst diving, to managing situations involving tired, panicked and unconscious divers, including those who have gone missing. With the theory firmly established in my brain I was looking forward to getting stuck into the water-based practicals.
The first thing we had to do before starting the Rescue Diver practical training was complete the Emergency First Response course, a one day training programme that equipped both myself and my buddy for the course, Sabah, with the skills to manage an emergency as a first responder, focusing on essential CPR and first aid. I now have the right to be able to utter the words “My name is Chris. I am an emergency first responder. May I help you?” if ever I find myself in a situation during which to actually say them.
With day 1 spent getting our EFR training out of the way, day 2 was all about starting the Rescue Diver practical training, with 10 distinct sections to get through, including how to respond to a tired diver in the water, approaching and, if necessary, controlling a panicked diver, and rescues from the boat. We also ran through how to surface an unconscious diver from underwater, and how to get said victim to safety, including the various techniques for getting them out of the water and either into a boat or the beach. One thing that became very evident is just how tough it is to lift and otherwise move around someone who is unconscious – no where near as effortless as they seem to make it out to be on films!
We didn’t quite manage to get through everything on day 2 so Sabah and I arranged to return to Dibba on our next mutual day off to complete the course and claim our titles of Rescue Divers. Day 3 was more involved, with the most important exercise being learning how to manage an unconscious, non-breathing diver in the water, including towing them to safety whilst providing rescue breaths and removing their diving gear – again, not an easy task and well worth practicing! The final part of the course, apart from the written exam at the end of the day, was a scenario whereby our instructors staged a real rescue situation in which one of them had gone missing, with their buddy reaching out to us for help. As such, we had to gather essential information from the missing diver’s buddy, formulate a search plan and pattern, locate the missing diver and surface them after confirming unconsciousness, and then tow them back to the safety of the beach before removing them from the water and instituting essential first aid, including CPR.
It is true what they say about the PADI Rescue course being the most fun of the PADI courses, and the skills developed are defintely ones that will help expand my enjoyment of diving, in addition to feeling as though I can now be useful if an emergency situation ever does present itself.
Many thanks to the team down at Freestyle Divers in Dibba, and especially our instructor for the course Amir El-kader, who did a sterling job of taking two enthusiastic open water divers and morphing us into bona fida Rescue Divers. Also thanks to both Rhys and Andy, both of whom played diving victims amiably, putting up with our efforts to ‘save’ them, including dragging them from the water somewhat unceremoniously, in the true good-natured spirit of the course.
Last month I had the pleasure of yet again donning my swim shorts, climbing shoes and chalk and hot footing it over to Oman with a bunch of fellow adrenaline junkies, where we piled into a boat and spent the day scaling sea cliffs along the Musandam coast.
Deep water soloing, for those who are not familiar with the activity, involves climbing without the use of ropes, over deep water, with this acting as a ‘safety’ in the event of falling or, eventually, jumping from a chosen finish point. It is insanely fun and one of the best ways to spend a glorious day with like-minded friends, exploring one of the most stunning coastlines on the planet. There is simply no way to access the sites that we had the pleasure of climbing other than by boat, and the combination of puzzle, physical exercise and sheer natural beauty makes the endeavour all consuming. One cliff we found ourselves climbing saw divers surface close-by, a surreal experience in and of itself.
Check out this video I edited, which incorporates footage from both last year’s trip and this year’s. Enjoy!
It’s getting hot. I mean really hot! My car thermometer registered 41 degrees Celsius over the weekend, officially marking, in my mind at least, the start of summer and the need to move ever more towards more nocturnal training. The fact of the matter is that in spite of having the privilege of living in a locale that sees almost year round sunshine, perfect for fair weather athletes such as myself, once April creeps into May that warming sun rapidly becomes a toasting sun, sending training athletes scurrying for cover as it reaches it’s thermal crescendo, which is normally by about 10am! As such, the desire to train effectively as opposed to die effectively means early mornings and late nights: a great combination for a normal, balanced life. Not particularly.
Yesterday saw the start of May’s training programme and the fact that the volume/ time/ distances to be completed have shot up in conjunction with our move into summer means that training is set to get a lot tougher. Take last night for example. I had a 105 minute turbo training interval session on the bike followed by a 50 minute run, all in all that saw me roll back in at just after 11pm. Evenings, it seems, are going to get very single-streamed. It’s perhaps a good thing then that my very recent dabble back on the dating scene appears to have fizzled to nothing, as it appears that the only ladies I am going to have any time to devote to are both “Miss Pain” and “Miss Constantly Tired & Hungry.” And something tells me they’re going to be around a lot.
For those of you following the IronVet challenge I thought it might be interesting to actually offer some level of insight into what training is actually being done up to this point. Following Abu Dhabi’s triathlon, the emphasis has been back on base training to gradually build up my stamina level and prepare me for the challenges of endurance work. Given the relatively long hours and variable shift pattern of my job as a vet, Trace gives me my sessions for the month, split into weeks, and allows me to then organise when to get them done. At the moment that generally ends up meaning a swim early in the week, with a run, a bike-fit (interval) session midweek, and the main, long cycle being reserved for Friday, when many other Lycra-clad loonies tend to descend on the hills of Hatta or the bike track out at Al Qudra. The May sessions are generally seeing me do two swims a week – one pool session and a long 2-2.5km swim – followed by two bike sessions – an interval session and a long ride, always with a run off the bike – and two runs, with a mix between long, base efforts and shorter sessions, such as hill training or intervals. It is tough to get them done and I am appreciating more and more the sacrifice that training seriously for an Ironman entails, including the real compromises that invariably have to be made in terms of private and social life. Still, I am certain that the pain and sacrifice will all be worth it as I cross that line high up in the beautiful mountains of Lake Tahoe.
I have been asked a number of times how to go about seeking employment as a vet in Dubai. I have endeavoured to set out the basic process as I understand it, but it is worth bearing in mind that the processes and requirements are very much subject to change, and may indeed change very suddenly. Any good potential employer will be able to assist you in getting registered properly, and you should perhaps be cautious if they suggest that you have to do it all yourself.
So, how did I go about getting a job out here? Well……
1. I found the job advertised on a UK veterinary job agency – the job sounded interesting, Dubai sounded fun and I wanted to do some more skydiving. So I enquired. Simples. Another option could have been to send an email with my CV to the vets in Dubai, enquiring about any potential vacancies, although unless they’re actively advertising
2. Interview via Skype – once my CV was reviewed by the clinic, a Skype interview was arranged so that we could have a bit of a general chat initially. The registration process was explained to me in addition to learning about the clinic and, probably most importantly of all, just a chance to get to chat to the clinic owners.
3. Offer – I obviously did something right during the Skype interview as I was offered the position (pending successful submission of the relevant registration documents) and so the whole process of moving to Dubai began.
4. Registration – in order to work legally as a fully registered vet in the UAE, I had to complete various steps, which took a few months to complete. The first criteria, however, was that I had to have a minimum of 5 year’s experience as a veterinary surgeon. The process was:
– Notarise copies of my education certificates (from GCSE right through to degree), official university transcripts and letters from my previous employers over the past 5 years. This was done by my local solicitor.
– The documents above were then sent to the UK Embassy in London to be legalised by my home Government before being submitted to the UAE Embassy to do the same.
– Once legalised, the documents were sent to Dubai and I then traveled out to submit my education documents in person in Abu Dhabi. Once that was done, it was a case of waiting to hear that I was being granted my labour visa before flying out to start.
– After landing in Dubai, one of the first things I had to do was have a medical, which involved a blood test and chest X-ray. This is standard and was all ok.
– The final step in getting fully registered was to sit the ministry exam, a short hour long test sat in person at the ministry. Once this was passed then I was fully registered and good to go 🙂
As I have already said, the process that I went through took several months and the rules are subject to change, so I would thoroughly recommend you check things with any clinic that you are looking to be employed by. Also, I was not expected to do any of the registration myself here in Dubai, which was good as it is quite a confusing process and can involve a lot of back and forth between various ministries, something that as a new arrival in Dubai would have been very very stressful. Thankfully, my employers handled everything on my behalf and were really supportive, and guided me whenever there was anything that I had to do in person. I would therefore be a little cautious of any potential employer who advises you to head over to Dubai before a lot of the pre-registration work has been done or who tells you that you need to go over and do it all yourself, as at least one person I know had to do. It took her months and a lot of headaches to finally get registered.
Anyway, hope this is of help and interest. Good luck and maybe see you in Dubai 🙂
Alas, I am in mourning. Not one to usually subscribe to fashion trends or fork out for ‘designer labels’ I must confess that I joined the crowd last year when I purchased a beautiful pair of ‘designer’ sunglasses whilst skydiving in the US. Adorning my head at any opportunity when the sun is present, which means most of the time now that I live out in the UAE, we sadly parted company yesterday but in a pretty awesome way 🙂
A group of fellow adrenaline junkies and I here in Dubai all headed over to Oman yesterday for a day of Deep Water Soloing, or climbing up sea cliffs with only water to break our falls. I must confess that I have tombstoned before – an experience that I engaged in as a foolish youth (well, as a newly qualified vet anyway) and which resulted in my friend and I jumping from a cliff that was, in hindsight, stupidly high – but had never climbed in this fashion before. The experience was amazing and I am convinced that there is no better way to spend a hot, sunny day than with a group of like-minded friends bobbing round a stunning coastline looking for daredevil acts to engage in, whether it be climbing or diving.
So, what happened to cause the loss of your beloved then? Well, good question. I am glad you asked. The second cliff we climbed up led to the jump being significantly higher than our first stop and in hindsight choosing to wear my Gatorz sunglasses, a cap and hang on to my GoPro Hero3 was folly. Anyway, I jumped, landed and very quickly realised that the only items I still had on me were my board shorts and climbing shoes – who’d have thunk it but landing in water from a height actually involves a fair amount of force so it should have been no surprise that my oh-so-cool headwear and I were separated.
Caps float so that was ok, the least expensive and most easily replaced item being easily retrieved from the ocean. Metal sunglasses – expensive ones at that – and considerably more expensive GoPro cameras, however, do not float. Which sucked! Thankfully, with the swift deployment of my snorkel and mask, which I was so glad I took along even just for the fact that there was some amazing sealife to observe during the day, I spied the GoPro (phew!) and was able to dive down to retrieve it. If it were another metre down, however, then I think I may have had issues as it was just about on my free-diving limit. Still, camera and footage saved it was then time to hunt for the illusive Gatorz. In hindsight, gunmetal blue may not have been the best colour to take along as everything looks sort of blue at depth and it soon became apparent that I was not going to find my sunnies. Boo! So, a gift to the ocean they were to remain and who knows, maybe some diver will come across them and be the new owner of what are an awesome pair of quality sunglasses. As for me, I had best get ordering a new pair – maybe red would be a good idea for next time, although the lesson I took away from the experience was NOT to wear sunglasses when climbing and then jumping down – they rarely stay with you!