December demotivation and duathlon dilemmas...

It’s December. It’s dull and dismal outside, it gets dark early, I’m demotivated and in the throes of a dilemma.  All the D’s. I’ve also been lacking the motivation to write this long-overdue blog, putting it off for weeks; but, as I wanted to make the title alliterate, I had to get off my arse and write it before the end of the month… motivation in itself! Hopefully January’s blog will talk of (re)juvination, jubilation and, who knows, joy?! We’ll see.

For sure, I have lost my running mojo. I have been doing a fair amount of cycling, which is unusual for me as I tend to be a bit of a fair-weather cyclist and previously I haven’t ridden outdoors throughout the winter. But this year, I’ve been preferring getting out on Cannondale to sweating it out on the turbo or the spin bike inside…. Downton Abbey box set or not. Keeping up the biking miles is hard in winter as, in the summer months, I cycle to work, which accounts for approximately 60 – 80 miles a week. In the winter, I finish too late to get home in the light and my route is just too dangerous to contemplate in the dark, so I am forced to take the car to work and fit training in on my days off.

The running, blah. I’ve hardly been doing any. Despite seeing a specialist achillies physio in Cornwall a couple of times, I am still struggling with the pesky lower left leg niggles of old. I am sick of running on it, aggravating it, having to back off again for days, trying again, same thing happens. Repeat repeat repeat. It’s a truly tedious cycle. I used to run 60 miles a week with back-to-back races not being a problem. Now, if I race, I need the best part of a week with no running for my lower left leg to recover. It means my weekly mileage is only about 10 miles a week, and that’s on a good week. It’s hard to keep the running fitness up and, when I do race, I am struggling to hold a pace that used to be my marathon PB speed. It’s frustrating. Basically, I need to give it a damn good rest and then start again, as if from scratch. So enters the European Duathlon Championship dilemma. To race, or not to race?

The championships – for which I qualified in March 2016 at Clumber Park – are to be held in Soria, Spain, on the weekend of 29^th / 30^th April. Plenty of time to get fit by then…. Providing I am able to train. I know I am biking fit, but lots of the ladies there will be as bike fit as me, and many of them will be better bike handlers, so I will have to be at my best to hold my own on the bike. The run is where I need to make my gains, but I can only do that if I can train. I know I can run a 20 minute 5k on the back of no running training, just using the cross-over cardio from the biking and swimming, but, at European level, 20 minutes is average. I need to be banging out an 18:30 – 19:00 time if I am to get within a sniff of the medals.

The other thing to consider is the cost involved in competing in this event. Contrary to popular belief, British Triathlon do not fund your travel, accommodation, bike transport, or race day expenses. Hell, you even have to pay for the GB kit you have earned the privilege of competing in and you have to pay to enter the race you have fought hard to qualify for. GB age-group athletes basically fund the handful of elites, such as the Brownlees, the Non Stanfords and the Vicki Hollands. I’m not complaining – we can’t all be funded, and that’s the system I knowingly signed up to – but it does mean that you have to think carefully about which races you want to target as they each cost in the region of £1000-£2000 to compete in, so I only want to part with that sum of money if I have a chance of being competitive.

We have basically avoided booking anything beyond a fully refundable hotel so far (and that was a stroke of luck that we managed to get in there, as the rooms in the official Team GB hotel were all snapped up within days, along with most other rooms in the limited accommodation offering within the small, remote mountain town of Soria). Getting there is not such an issue as flights to Madrid are plentiful and inexpensive, and then there is always the option of the Vomit-Comet (Brittany Ferries) down to Santander, taking our own car with Cannondale tucked up in the back and thus eliminating the conundrum of bike-boxing over the wheels. The actual race is not open yet for entry and the new GB kit has not been released either: all good news as buys me some more time to make my decision. I will probably have to make a call though by the end of January as to whether or not to compete. It will all depend on how my achillies behaves between now and then and what running training I am able to do on it.

Running and I are not good bed-fellows at the moment. It’s hard to go on Strava and see the mileage your friends and rivals are putting in and not to feel a bit forlorn and frustrated. I know I have PBs in me that will probably stay in me because my battered body just won’t allow me to do the training necessary to reach that level again. Strava is a whole other blog post in itself. I initially joined it back in 2014 and left after a few short months due to feelings of inadequacy. I have the sort of personality that leads me to compare myself to others, but, inevitably, only the “others” who are better than me, and thus I always find myself coming up short. The ones who are doing less miles, slower times, I don’t tend to notice them. Strava, for me, is quite dangerous. It pushes me to want to overdo things; makes me think I am lazy and not training enough; frustrates me that all these other people can do the miles they are doing and not get injured; makes me more likely to train through illness and to skip much needed rest days: “but so-and-so hasn’t had a rest day in 5 weeks”. Logic would suggest that so-and-so is an idiot on a hiding to burn out and/or injury, but my competitive, perfectionist side holds so-and-so up as a sporting super-hero and negates me to an inferior wannabe who is weak enough to need rest days and recovery time. I admire, with blindsided incredulity, the back-to-back 70 mile rides in sub-zero degree temperatures, the head-torch half-marathon runs at 5am, the sea swims that continue throughout the grip of winter, the 2 hour long pool sessions (when I get bored and bail after 40 minutes) and I feel decidedly average and lacking. Forget the fact that I do more than 99% of the population: I zero in on those 1% of heroic, noble souls who do more than me. Really, I need to do my own thing and ignore what everyone else is doing… but the lure of a stealthy Strava stalking session is a very powerful thing!

Enough of the negative waffle. I have a cold/cough combo and, as I sit here swigging on a Lemsip and feeling sorry for myself, the self-critique is all the more heightened as I've had to miss today's planned training session and indulge in a gluttonous second day of rest this week: oh, the horror of there not being a little black circle on my Strava weekly activity log for the second time this week! Let’s end on a high and focus on a couple of running races I did manage to do in December (albeit that I was wasn’t able to run for 7 days after either of them…). All the best to you all for a happy and healthy 2017!

Almost home! Just the last bit of downhill to go at the Otterton Reindeer Run. I was 2nd female, for the 2nd year running.

Jo Pavey ran the Otterton Reindeer fun-run with her son - lovely lady, always willing to chat and take cheesy pics with sweaty, tired runners!

Finally got to do a race I've had my eye on for years: The Scrooge 7.5 mile multi-terrain race at Heligan, Cornwall.

Half running, half wading: the full multi-terrain experience!

Freezing cold, muddy water, up to your chest. Tri training came in handy!

Approaching another monster hill at The Scrooge.

The wine stations helped to lift the spirits!!

2nd lady and won one of my quirkier trophies to date: a Scrooge inspired top hat!

Let's du this!

Triathlon season is over, but duathlon season is very much not! Whilst there is something about taking part in a duathlon that almost feels like a “cop out” after the tris and tribulations of tris, it’s undeniable that when you replace my weakest phase with a second crack at my strongest phase, it’s a win-win situation for me. At Dartington Duathlon this last weekend, it proved to be just that: a win!

As I had the best part of two months off running over August and September, I opted for the sprint distance. (I’m only up to 5 miles maximum on training runs, so it would have been silly to go out and smash a 10k, then tense up on the bike and have to run another 5k after). Thank goodness the event was the morning the clocks go back for daylight savings, as it was already an horrifically early start (5:30am wake-up call), and it was still dark for much of the drive there, even with the time adjustment.

Matt couldn’t go with me as he was on call for work, so the trusty parents accompanied me. I decided it would be easier to sleep at theirs, in Exmouth, the night before, to save 45 minutes in the morning having to drive over there to pick them up. However, they are moving house in a week’s time and so my old bed has already gone, my old bedroom is in a total state of mid-pack-up disarray, and so, amongst all this, I didn’t get a very good night’s sleep. It was gone 2am before I managed to drift off, and then I continually kept waking, expecting to hear the alarm at any moment. Point being, I got to the race venue feeling beyond knackered and not exactly revved up and raring to race! The end of season break I vaguely remember promising myself has not exactly happened…. It wasn’t deliberate, it’s just that we’ve had such a fantastic autumn and so it’s been a real joy to get out on the bike whilst I still can, to ride with friends and the tri club Sunday rides, and so I have been putting in a few big bike mile weeks. I’ve also just started back running and am trying to train my body to run in a new style, using a higher cadence, so it’s been fun to work on that too. My body is now at the point where the odd rest day is having no effect: it needs a full rest week. Oh well though, I was here, about to race, and so the caffeine went into the system and it’s amazing how far that and adrenaline will carry you once that starting horn sounds!

Taken by my friend Debbie - not exactly raring to race!

The standard distance went off first, 10 minutes before we started our sprint race at 8am. The standard racers were competing over two laps of everything we did. Halfway through the first run, I was glad I was “only” doing the “sprint”, as boy was this a hilly course! The first 5k run was one mile downhill, one mile flat along the river Dart, then one mile back uphill again. The bike was essentially all uphill to the half way turn around at 6.5 miles, then all back down again, with a nasty sharp kick up a steep hill back to transition. The second run was another hammer it downhill, run along a river for a bit, slog back up hill again affair.

I found myself taking the lead in the women’s race once the ground flattened out on the first run (downhill running very much NOT my thing!). I extended it on the uphill section and, with a surprisingly swift T1 (amazing how dextrous I can be at changing shoes etc when my hands aren’t numb and freezing cold after a swim!), I had about a minute’s lead as I headed out on the bike. Due to the out and back format of the bike course, you could see how you were doing at the turn around in relation to other competitors. It was great to see my fellow South West Road Runner, and fellow European Duathlon champs qualifier, Sam Hopton, out in front, leading the men’s race. It was also encouraging to see that I was well up there, in the top ten overall, and not too far adrift of the leading guys. Coming back down, I could tell I had put quite a bit of time into the second lady, and the third lady was quite some way back. Feeling confident that, barring mechanical disasters, this one could be in the bag, I enjoyed the rest of the fast, downhill bike section.

The cheeky uphill kick to T2 at the end of the bike leg.

 I picked off a couple of guys on the final 2.5km run and crossed the line in 9^th place overall and 1^st lady, over 6 minutes clear of second. My parents, stood watching on the final turn towards the finish, overheard a couple nearby say, “Oh, here comes the first lady: she looks powerful”. This should be a compliment. Powerful, as a triathlete, is nothing but good: power is speed, it’s force, it’s strength, it’s efficiency, it’s getting the job done well. However, there is a small part of my brain – the part which remains ever-so-slightly f##ked up where body image, weight, size, food and eating is concerned – hears “powerful” and hears “big, chunky, muscular, masculine, yuck”. The weedy little thing who used to walk around ghost-like, keeling over every 5 minutes, was a long way from being powerful. But powerful is also strong and healthy, and I would far rather be that than weak and sickly again. Powerful is also the mark of a winner, and I certainly enjoy being one of those; so I guess that will just have to embrace being powerful and accept it for the positive compliment it was designed to be.

Looking "powerful", apparently...

 Interestingly, the lady who came second to me was the daughter of Tony Arnell, of Tribe cycles, who did my bike fit for me. Tony was also racing and he was one of the guys I managed to pick off on the final run, but this was only because his calf had given out on him and so he was reduced to a speed hobble (been there, know what that feels like). Tony’s daughter is only young, and so a definite talent to watch for the future. Sam Hopton, who won the race overall, is also a client of Tony’s and Tribe cycles, so in all, it was a good day for Team Tribe at Dartington.

Sam (first overall) and me (first lady) with our cash prizes :-)

I was waiting to see how this race went before deciding whether or not to enter the Castle Coombe Duathlon, at the racing circuit in Wiltshire in three week’s time. This event is notoriously fast, furious and competitive, and I would need to be on my A-game just to place top 5 at it. I think I will enter, and I may even bring Black Ninja (my Specialized Shiv Elite T.T. bike) out to play, as it’s closed circuit and traffic free, it will be a good first race for us both. In the meantime though, a week’s rest is in order. We are off to Holland to visit friends Lorna and Sascha, and then on to Paris for a few nights….. a chance to finally indulge in that “end of season” break then! 

Team Win.

So, my final hit out of the 2016 tri season happened last weekend at the Roadford Relays. A team event with my club, N1, seemed like the ideal way to end what has, on reflection, been a pretty decent first proper season as a triathlete. The only issue: I was organising all our club’s team entries – 6 teams in total; 24 triathletes – which was infinitely more stressful than the actual taking part bit! I’m not sure how my suggesting that “it might be a nice idea to do a relays event as a club” turned into me becoming organiser-in-chief of said event, but, moral of the story, don’t suggest things if you don’t want to be the person responsible for making it happen! Actually, it wasn’t all that bad, but, inevitably, the stress levels rose as the day drew closer and members started to casually mention that they “don’t have a wetsuit” and they “have never swum in open water before”, or they “have a broken bike”, or, the worst one, coming the night before the event, “tore a calf muscle out running, can’t compete”. Thank goodness for the team spirit of the whole club and the willingness of a couple of individuals to go around twice, ensuring that we could close the 6 teams we entered.

Waiting for Anne in the change over zone, ready to receive the timing chip and start my leg.

 From a personal point of view, I actually had a great race. I did the third leg (of 4) for our ladies’ team, with Catherine on first, then Anne second, both getting us off to a strong start, then me, then Helen bringing it home. My swim, miraculously, felt really good. As I didn’t start first, in the mass start, when I got in I had clear water – no bumping and barging and jostling for position. This meant I was relaxed from the off and able to establish a good rhythm straight away. To my delight, I actually started to pick slower swimmers off: something that never usually happens to me (quite the inverse actually!). Turning around the final buoy, things were perhaps going a little bit too well: I felt strong, I only had about 100m left to swim, so I put my head down, powered on, and didn’t look up to sight again for a long while. When I did, to my dismay, I was no longer on a line for the buoy and the exit, but heading for the mud bank off to my right! I had managed to veer almost 90° off course: what a numpty! Lost the best part of a minute correcting my line, but emerged from the water feeling positive, only to be knocked back my husband’s dulcet tones enquiring as to where I thought I was headed – the Isle of Wight? – as I ran past him and up towards transition.

Here I come!

Emerging from the water after what felt like the most comfortable open water swim I've experienced to date!

Now you see the sun, soon you won't! Variable weather conditions at Roadford!

The bike course suited me well: hilly! It was on the edge of Dartmoor, so not a flat bit in sight (all apart from the short and sweet section along the dam wall). I attacked all the hills and the 13km route seemed to fly by in no time. The weather had been superb all week – unseasonably hot for late September / early October – but not so today. Downpours on a Biblical scale punctuated short, sunny spells, and, as I came back over the dam wall, a hail shower. Yes – another hail shower, timed just for me to hit it on the most exposed part of the course. At one stage I was actually struggling to see, the hail was driving right into my eyes. But now, whenever I race, I just see it that I survived two days of far worse at Slateman, so yes, I can cope with anything else that mother nature has to throw at me! I call it my ‘post-slatemanist slant’; it’s akin to a postmodernist slant whereby you arrive at a serene state of acceptance as a result of having experienced the extremes. I believe it has only served to toughen me up!

The run, well, the run course was weird. Very narrow, very twisty, very slippery in places, very congested. I’m not fully running fit at the moment, but that didn’t really matter on this course, as my pace was dictated by the terrain and not by my fitness levels. I was pleased to post what I think was the fastest female run split of the day and to give Helen, our last leg athlete, a decent enough gap over a talented, former pro, triathlete from a sponsored triathlon team. Helen held her off and N1 ladies claimed the top female spot overall. The sponsored team, who finished three minutes behind us, had two really quality athletes in their midst, but they didn’t have the consistency that we did: we didn’t have a weak link. Yes, my swim was the slowest (surprise surprise), but my run split made up for it; Cath’s bike was amazing, Anne’s swim was as speedy as ever, and Helen was consistent across the three: between the four of us, our overall times were very even. What a great way to end what has been a great year with the club. Even the extreme rain showers could not dampen the spirits and the cheering of us N1 gang. Joining this club was the best decision I made as far as progressing with triathlon is concerned.

Team Win / Team N1: Helen, Catherine, me and Anne.

 So, I’m now entering the triathlon off-season. There are a couple of Autumn duathlons that have peeked my interest, so they will be a focus over the coming weeks, and maybe a few of my favourite Autumn trail runs. Other than that, the main goal for the winter is to improve my swim…. Much in the same way that my main goal for winter 2015 was to improve my swim, and that never really happened. But this time, I am committed! My cycling buddy, and Roadford team mate, Anne, has very kindly offered to give me some pointers: she’s a swimming teacher in her day job and spends 20+ hours a week identifying and correcting people’s faults: lucky her; I’m now letting her loose on mine! I think, for me, the swim is going to be a very slow burner, but I’m not planning my Ironman debut for a while yet, so there’s plenty of time to get me up to scratch before shit gets serious and I need to start swimming crazy 3.8km distances.

Plans for 2017? Well, the European Duathlon championships that I qualified for back in March are now confirmed: they take place in Soria, near Madrid, at the end of April. That’s the main goal for the Spring. After that? We’ll see…. got a few ideas in mind…

The clue's in the name...

Time to reflect on my penultimate triathlon outing of the year: the Cotswold Lake 62 End of Season Standard Triathlon. The clue’s in the name: yes, it’s the end of season, but also, crucially, it’s in Lake 62…. I should have taken note of this, it would prove a vital clue in the conundrum of finding the venue….

Last year, I took part in my first ever open water triathlon at the Cotswold Sprint tri. The course and organisation proved ideal for my first dip in open water territory. The lake was beautiful – pristine even. It was crystal clear, very shallow in places, and very still on the surface, being well sheltered. The bike course was on wide, open, straight and flat roads around the southern part of the Cotswolds, near Cirencester. The run was 2 laps of a gravel path around the lake, with transition being lake side. There was a café for spectators and great support on the run route, which passed through a giant adventure play area and high ropes course. I loved it, so I was eager to go back to the same venue and have a bash at a standard distance event there this year. … only, it wasn’t the same venue. As I said, the clue is in the name. The tri I did last year was in lake 32…. but I had slept since then, so couldn’t remember this. So when this one said ‘lake 62’, I naturally assumed that it was the same lake as, surely, all triathlons in the Cotswold Water Park must take place in this same idyllic lake? Not so.

Thankfully, I had got a cracking deal on a Travelodge (yes, the same one we stayed in last year; yes, the one about which I said ‘never again’ after they tried to fine us £100 for parking overnight… in the overnight parking spaces reserved for Travelodge guests…), but it was a steal at £55 for two people for two nights, and I love a bargain. Besides, it’s near the venue, they accept Cannondale unquestioningly - which a lot of the more upmarket hotels are reluctant to do - it’s a handy location, and ‘with new refurbished rooms and comfy new king sized beds, to stay anywhere else you’d need rocks in your head’, so here we were again at the delightful and delectable Travelodge Delamere M4 Eastbound. By ‘we’ I mean the Mothership and I; Matt had once again put Exeter City before my triathloning, and he and his Dad had headed north to Crewe for the weekend to watch Exeter lose…. again. (I did try to mention that he had pinned his flag to the wrong mast as his wife would never let him down so badly, but he wasn't in the mood to listen to this reasoning....)

Staying two nights would prove to be a Godsend as it allowed us to go and rekkie the venue and the course on the Saturday. The weather on Saturday was foul: pouring rain all day until late afternoon. When we got to the area, there were signs that a triathlon was taking place at that moment: bikers with tri-belts and numbers on them. First moment of panic: have I got the right day? Check the blurb – def September 11^th, not 10^th… this must be a different event as it’s taking place in a different lake. Mildly confused, ask the organisers – who appear to be the same organisers of the tri I have signed up for. Saturday is a relay event; the standard event is indeed on the Sunday, in lake 62. Thank goodness for the pre-raceday rekkie, or I’d have rocked up race morning to the wrong ruddy lake!

It's not just me being stupid: there are literally hundreds of these lakes, finding the precise one isn't as easy as you'd think in this maze!

Race morning, alarm sounds at a highly acceptable 7am and the weather is sunny! Yay! Total contrast to yesterday. For the first time this year, the weather Gods are on my side. After 5 triathlons in rainy, damp, overcast conditions, I am due some sun and warmth! Driving to the venue, there is a low-lying mist hovering eerily over the fields. There is a crispness to the air: that reminiscent parting handshake as summer gives way to autumn. I am feeling very calm and looking forward to the race ahead and to seeing what I can do on what will hopefully be a fast course.

Four of my fellow N1 teamies are also competing, and Dennis and Liz Elliott have set their alarm for the crack of dawn and have driven up from Sidmouth to come and support us all: a lovely, much appreciated act, but one which does put the pressure on me somewhat not to be shit! At 9:30am, in wave 3, I enter the water for the deep water start. This is only my second time swimming the full 1500m distance open water, and my goal is to improve upon my truly abysmal 32-minute clocking from Dambuster back in June. The hooter goes and we’re off. There are roughly 60-70 people in my wave and a throng of swimmers from wave 2 coming around to join us on their second of the two 750m loops. I get bumped and barged a bit, try to find some feet, don’t really manage it, so look for a bit of personal space to try and establish my own rhythm. I am soon made aware that this lake has a LOT of weeds in it when a huge, green, slimy piece of sub-aquatic flora makes itself at home on my forehead and partially blocks the view from my mask. This is a far cry from my beloved, weed-free lake 32!

On the start line, mentally girding my proverbial loins ahead of the challenge to come...

Finally arrive at the first turn and try to take as tight a line around the buoy as possible, opting for a few breaststroke strides to allow me to tuck in and get a good sighting for the next buoy. I am aware that I am quite gaspy today and struggling for breath, then I realise that in my pre-race faffing, I forgot to have my inhaler. No bloody wonder! Too late now, must press on. As I complete the first 750m lap, I give a wave to my Mum, and to Liz and Dennis, who are watching on the bank, just to reassure them that, no, I haven’t drowned, I’m just taking bloody ages.

No, despite what it looks like, I'm not drowning: I was signalling to my Mum after the first lap so she'd know which one was me!

On to lap two… desperately wishing that this was just a sprint distance and I could get out now.

Looking back at the next turn, I am monumentally disheartened to see only a handful of white swim caps behind me. It doesn’t take a mathematical genius to calculate that, of the 60 ish starters, for me to be roughly 55^th slowest, things are going really bad at this point. No matter. Press on. Finally find some clear water on the second lap and get into a better rhythm and start to up the pace a bit. Am as relieved as Father Christmas on Boxing Day that the ordeal is over and I can get out of the weed-infested water.

The exit was slippery as hell (those ruddy weeds again!): I'd defy anyone to make this look graceful!

T1 is the usual uncoordinated mess (never seems to get any slicker with practice). I manage to wheeze at my Mum on the exit that I forgot my inhaler – thankfully she takes the hint to find it and has it ready for me later when I come to start the run. It takes me a long time on the bike to get my breathing back under control, so I’m not able to blast out of T1 like I usually do. About half a mile in, a guy passes me, but doesn’t really pull away. A mile later, I pass him. One mile further on, he comes back at me again, etc etc. We soon establish that we are in fact an annoyingly similar pace and we basically cat and mouse like this for the entire two lap, 41km course: trying not to get caught in each other’s draft zone and get busted by the bike marshalls. Halfway round the second lap, as I pass him for about the 11^th time, he shouts, ‘Here she is!’, I offer, ‘Ellie, by the way.’ ‘Matt’, he offers back (oh, good, a name I will be able to remember). We then exchange a few words on each time of passing each other and arrange to have a glass of water (this is tri!) at the finish to toast each other. Unfortunately, once we headed out of T2 on the run, I never saw him again. If, by the small remote chance you are reading this: sorry Matt, I did look out for you. Good job on completing your first ever triathlon!

The guy to my left is my bike-course buddy, Matt: we cycled the whole 41k at roughly the same pace!

I loved the bike course: it suited me to a tee. It was lumpier than the Cotswold Sprint course, but more undulating than hilly. There was nothing technical on it either, so hardly any need to brake. At the same time, it offered you nothing: next to no opportunities to use gravity to your advantage; the downhill sections were gradual, so you still had to work. I love to graft on the bike, so it was ideal for me. The best bit was that we got to cycle past Kemble Airfield, where about 20 decommissioned large jet liners sit, like an aircraft graveyard full of metallic carcasses slowly rusting and decaying: the inner-plane geek in me loved it. Great place for a photographer to positon themselves too….

Big planes and fast bikes: two of my fave things in one shot!

I was slightly worried that I didn’t seem to be catching many people on lap one. I passed a few guys, but only about one or two ladies. Normally, due to my crappy swim, I start to pick people off on the bike very early on. This made me worried that they were all so far ahead, I had no chance of catching them. Come lap two though, all that changed, and suddenly I seemed to be catching and passing people every few meters, and working my way up through the field.

Into T2, having thoroughly enjoyed the bike and having felt that I pushed it hard, but having no way of knowing what position I was in. I was later pleased to see I'd averaged bang on 20mph for the undulating 41k: the bike fit I had done the previous week with Tribe Cycle Solutions already bringing dividends! I blasted off on the run, keen to use my strongest discipline to make up some ground. That said, I hadn’t actually run for over two weeks prior to this after tweeking my achillies at a parkrun back in August, so I wanted to give it time to heal: just have to trust that my legs know their job well enough by now. The run was 6 laps around the lake. My biggest worry was that I’d lose count, so Mum, bless her, in amongst taking photos, proffering me my inhaler and some flapjack squares, was also ticking off the laps for me in a notebook! The course was very boggy in places, due to the previous day's heavy rain and hundreds of people trudging up the same lines every lap. My Nike Pegasus are quite grippy though, so I was moving well through the field. No way of knowing whether the other athletes you’re passing are on lap 1, 2, 3, whatever. No way of knowing if I’m 30 seconds behind the female in front of me or 30 minutes: just have to keep pushing the whole way, as you only know when you cross the line, so you don’t want to miss out on a position by a few seconds, knowing you had more to give. Leave nothing out there. There is a purity and honesty to this style of racing which suits the masochist in me: no one to hide behind; it’s all down to you and your capacity to hurt yourself. Fortunately (or unfortunately?) for me, my 'hurt' threshold appears to be quite high!

2h30m20s of hard graft later: it's over!

Due to the different start times, all the other N1 members finished before me, so they were all there to greet me as I crossed the line: a lovely feeling. Team solidarity, sharing special moments with like-minded people, that’s what being part of a club is all about. Ollie, one of our younger members, had had a brilliant race, as had Anne, so we were hopeful they might have won their categories. In fact, all of us had performed well, with no mechanical glitches – always a worry on the bike section! We stayed for the prize-giving, hoping to come away with an odd category win. The first prize to be awarded was the third female overall…. In a time of 2 hours 30 minutes…. Ellie Dominey of N1 Tri Club. Flippin’ heck! I might have hoped on the outside chance of a category win, but not a top three over the standard distance. Genuinely gobsmacked, but obviously also thrilled in equal measure. After being the 30th female out of the water, I went on to post the 3rd fastest female bike split (the winner and second posting the fastest two), and the fastest female run. I also found out I had won my category, by almost half an hour, but it was only one prize per competitor: no grumbles about that. Ollie and Anne indeed won their categories, and Ollie was a fine 5^th overall. A Great day for the club with 3 out of 5 of us coming away with some trinkets.

Team N1.

A handshake....

And some goodies. Post-race prosecco: it's why we put ourselves through it, n'est-ce pas?

Mixed feelings afterwards. Yes, I had podiumed, but I was a full 5 minutes behind the 2^nd female and a whopping 15 minutes behind the winner: both of whom had much faster swims than me. My swim time, 31:20, was a marginal improvement on my Dambuster swim, but I can comfortably do 29 minutes for 1500m on a steady swim in the pool, so why am I slower in open water, when a wetsuit is meant to help with buoyancy and thus speed you up? Very frustrating. After a full year now of being with N1 and diligently attending the club swim sessions twice a week, I am swimming no faster now than I was this time last year. Dennis almost choked on his Chester Slice (no bacon butties: another failing on lake 62’s part), when I mentioned the word ‘duathlon’, but when I replace my weakest discipline with a second go at my strongest discipline, it’s hard to see how that isn’t a better combination for me. I certainly have a lot of swim demons to overcome before I will ever be able to access that still elusive, and still much coveted, top podium place in a triathlon event.

Tomorrow, 17^th September, I would have been out competing in Cozumel, Mexico, at the ITU Standard Distance Triathlon championships. As it goes, I have made the right decision not to go and I will instead watch the races from the comfort of my sofa. 2017, when they are to be staged in Rotterdam? Maybe… we’ll see. But, next up, we have the Roadford Relays, with six N1 Tri Club teams (24 people) taking part, over a super-sprint 400m-12.5km-3.5km course, it should be a great day out and a fun way to end what, on reflection, has not been a bad first season as a triathlete. Looking back on my events below, I have many reasons to feel proud and smile… if we gloss over the swim!!

February: Taunton Deane Long Course Pool Aquathlon (1000m / 10km): 3rd lady in 1:00:45.

March: Clumber Park Sprint Duathlon, inc. ETU Sprint championships qualifier (5km / 20km / 2.5km): 6th lady, 1st age cat. in 1:08:23, qualified in number one spot for 2017 ETU Sprint champs

May: Slateman Savage double triathlon weekend. (Day 1: 400m lake swim / 20km bike / 6km run; Day 2: 1000m lake swim / 52km bike / 12km run): 3rd Savage lady in combined time of 4:54:08

June: South Hams Sprint Tri (750m sea swim / 20km bike / 5km run): 3rd lady, 2nd age cat. in 1:28:44

June: Dambuster Standard distance Tri, Rutland Water (including ITU world triathlon championships qualifier): 32nd lady, 10th age cat in 2:35:40, qualified for 2016 ITU world standard distance championships via roll down place, in Cozumel, Mexico.

July: Honiton Sprint tri (400m pool swim / 21km bike / 5km run): 2nd lady, 1st age cat. in 1:07:03

September: Cotswold End of Season Standard Tri (1500m lake swim / 41km bike / 10k run): 3rd lady, 1st age cat, in 2:30:20.

Done in for Devon...

As it’s now the end of July, summer is well on its way to being over. In some ways, it has felt long, as I started my tri season early on, in May, and crammed in five events by July 3rd, so in that respect it feels like the end of the season already. On the other hand, the record heatwave summer that was mooted back at the start of the year has not really     materialised (save one hot week in mid-July), so in some ways it feels as though I’m still waiting for summer to start! One thing’s for sure, my body is pretty knackered and is ready for its end of season break. 

This has been my first proper season as a triathlete. Last year I dabbled in a couple of pool based sprint events and managed my first open water tri at the back end of the season. 2016 marked the first year of targeting some key events, training towards them over the winter, and managing to execute them without having to pull out through injury. This latter point feels like my biggest achievement of the year, as for the previous 3 years, since February 2013, I have been on an endless 6 month injury cycle. Maybe it’s true what they told me when I took up triathlon – it does make you stronger and less injury prone? Or maybe it’s simply because I am not constantly pounding my legs with the running, but strengthening them on the bike and getting the cardio crossover benefits from the cycling and the swimming? I am only running between 15 and 20 miles a week, but with the fitness from the other sports, this has been enough to produce some decent enough running performances this year. Running highlights have been:

Run Exe 5k, April: 3rd lady in 18:28 (my third fastest 5k ever, and my fastest since 2013).
Exmouth Land and Sand 5k: 1st lady and 1st overall and new course record (both male and female) in 20:21.
Ottery 10k, May: 1st lady in 38:25 on a hilly course.
Erme Valley Relays, 2.5 mile: 3rd fastest female leg in 15:02 (a course PB by 23 seconds).

Run Exe Summer 5k, April. 18:28.

Exmouth Land and Sand Run

Exmouth Land and Sand Run - pushing on to ditch the guy behind me to win the race outright!

On the back of these results I was approached by the Devon County Athletics Association team manager, Dave Phillips, and asked to represent Devon on a team for the South-West inter-counties 10k road championships, this year held at the Frome 10k. I was thrilled. The last time I ran for Devon on the roads was in February 2013 at the Plymouth Hoe 10 mile, and that was the race in which I tore my calf and my injury battle started. I definitely had some demons to bury!

My plan was to taper off the cycling in the week leading up to Frome (held on 17th July). Heavy cycling thighs are not conducive to fast running! I had been feeling very run down ever since Slateman (May 21st/22nd). In hindsight, I didn’t fully appreciate the demands that a double event in freezing, wet conditions would place on my body and so I didn’t give myself the necessary recovery time afterwards. The result was that I experienced a never-ending string of coughs and colds, starting a week after the event, that lasted a good 6 weeks. I would be just about shifting a cold, then I would have another event booked in, do it, and be back at square one again. After doing the Dambuster on a cold, I was in a worse state than ever. It’s only really been these last couple of weeks that I have finally started to feel like my old self again. My resting pulse rate had been up around 58-60bpm (usual for me is 48-50), so this was a sure sign I was run down, knackered and that my body was crying out for a rest. My split times in the pool plummeted (another sign) and running suddenly felt like a much greater effort to achieve slower results. I lost my mojo for training, particularly for anything that put me out of my comfort zone, such as long CSS efforts in the pool, sea swimming, long bike rides. All signs. I can see them now. I didn’t at the time. I thought I had lost some fitness, was becoming lazy and obviously needed to train harder. Classic mistake. 

By the time Frome 10k came around, I was not exactly at the peak of my fitness. We travelled up to Shepton Mallet on the Saturday as Matt’s Aunt and Uncle live there, so they kindly let us stay with them overnight. Not wanting to go into detail, but I spent most of Saturday back and forth to the loo. At first I thought it was maybe nerves for the race the next day, but I was actually feeling pretty chilled about it and calmer than usual: if there’s one thing triathlon has done for my pre-race nerves it’s taught me that running only events are nothing to flap about! You turn up, in your kit, ready to run. You need trainers, shorts, vest, which you should be wearing. No stress about remembering a list an arm long of other kit items, or of making sure the bike arrives safely and mechanically intact. Triathlon has made running seem so simple! The next morning, I was still making friends with the toilet and was a bit worried. It also happened to be the first really hot day of the year: hot and humid. Oh well, nothing to be done, just have to do my best. 

Pre-race team Devon photo.

The first 5k went by fine. This section was pretty flat and I am used to running this distance now. I went over the chip timing mat in 19:32. Then the hard bit started. The second half of Frome 10k was just non-stop hills! There was a one mile uphill stretch from miles 3-4 that seemed to go on and on and on. Then a small downhill section, before more undulations, and then a half mile slog up a very steep hill to the finish. I think I must have been low on electrolytes by the end, due to the aforementioned toilet visits and sweating more than usual in the heat, as I really ‘hit that wall’. I was lying in 3rd place in the ladies race at halfway and was the second counter for the Devon ladies’ team, but that soon changed. I let not one, not two, but three ladies come past me in the last couple of miles. I finished 6th lady and 5th for Devon: that was the one consolation, that all the ladies who came past were my teamies, so at least it meant that with 5 out of the top 6 being Devon runners, we had easily secured the team prize! So, individually not my greatest performance. My pre-race time prediction had been 38:00 – 38:45: rather optimistic, given that I actually trailed in in 40:23! However, it was hot, and hilly, and I had had the shits for two days running! ;-)

The final hill at Frome 10k. I am now down into 6th female, bringing up the rear of this trio of Devon teamies!

Looking back on my three appearances in the Devon vest, I am beginning to question that it’s not the luckiest attire for me. The first cap, I tore my calf and limped home at Plymouth Hoe 10; the second outing, at the Inter-counties cross country, I missed the start and had to play catch up from the otherside of the field, and the third occasion, well, see above! If bad luck comes in threes, my next appearance for Devon should be truly scintillating!!!

Since Dambuster, I have taken part in just one other triathlon, and that was the Honiton Sprint tri. What a joy to have a triathlon on my doorstep, with the bike course being on the roads I train on and know like the back of my hand, and with the swim being in the pool in which I train. And what a joy to come out of the water feeling warm for the first time this year! 

I was still feeling tired going into this, but it was a low-key local event and so I figured I'd just use it for training. Maybe that mindset helped me to relax, as I had a pretty decent swim (7:36 for 400m, holding some back for the bike and the run). The bike went ok, apart from getting held up behind a car on the windy, narrow lanes down through Buckerell village, and the run felt good, but it came in well short of 5k (2.75 miles). On a sprint tri, I need the run to be over rather than under distance ideally, to give me more ground to make up time on the speedy swimmers and bikers. I finished in the position I expected to: 2nd female and 1st in my age category, behind talented local triathlete Kerri-Ann, who is an amazing swimmer.

Out on the 21km bike leg on the old A30, near Fenny Bridges.

Return leg of the out-and-back bike course.

Approaching the finish line at Honiton tri: my 5th tri of the season, all of them in grey, wet, miserable weather!

But one thing Honiton tri highlighted is that I definitely need a break: I woke up the next day with yet another sodding cold! I had thought to try and push on to the end of the season and then take a couple of weeks off, but I am not sure I can wait that long! I have been on a heavy training schedule since January, with just a couple of lighter weeks in amongst, and so I think that I have gone past the point of reaping any benefits from just the odd rest day: I need a full rest week! Fortunately I am about to get that as we are going to Scotland and Islay for a week on 3rd August. This holiday was originally scheduled around running the Islay Half Marathon, but my latest plan is to be sensible and do no running or cycling and just have a couple of easy swims to keep the body loose. 

Targets wise, I just have one more triathlon booked in this year and that is the end of season Cotswold Olympic distance tri on 11th September. I will not be taking up my place on the GB squad for the world champs in Mexico. Some people who don't know my situation may think me mad to pass up such an opportunity - and yes, when I watch it on telly come September thinking 'I could have been there', I may think myself mad too - but believe me when I say it is the right decision for me, and I have made peace with it. Hopefully there will be other chances to make the team.... and I hear next year's world champs are in the less exotic, rather handier location of Rotterdam! So I can now afford to take a whole week off in Scotland, then come back and put in a couple of good training weeks before tapering off for the Cotswolds. And then, well, maybe then I’ll treat my poor battered, tired old bones to a decent length break…. I can hear my husband laughing as I type this…. but the good intentions are there!!

Damn Dambuster busted my damn backside!

Earlier this year, when I was planning my 2016 triathlon season, the Dambuster Olympic (standard) distance triathlon at Rutland Water on 18^th June was pencilled in as my ‘A’ race. It was a qualifying race for the age-group world triathlon championships which are to be held in Cozumel, Mexico, in September this year. All the other races, chiefly the Slateman double, were to be used as training races building towards this one. I have to remind myself that prior to this year, I had only competed in triathlons for one season and only one of my three races last year had an open water swim. They were all sprint distance too, so it wasn’t exactly ideal that my first bash at a standard distance race was at the worlds qualifier! When I sat down with Dennis and Liz (Elliot) at the end of last year and planned my line of attack for 2016, the one qualification race they said was best to avoid was the Dambuster as it notoriously attracts a strong field due to its location, setting and superb bike course. What race did I end up opting for? Yes, the Dambuster! Not because I ignored their advice, and not because I was arrogant enough to think that I could still qualify here, but mainly because it was the only race that fitted in with my schedule. The other two qualification races were earlier in the season and clashed with Slateman; also, I needed time to build up towards the hilly 42km bike course and so needed more cycling miles in my legs. So Dambuster it had to be!

This was 2015, then came 2016 and with it talk of zika virus running rife in Central and South America. Suddenly the Olympic Games in Rio had a cloud cast over them and suddenly I am thinking that destination Mexico isn’t the attractive prospect it once was either. The zika issue is complicated and many people will just say, ‘It’s not dangerous, it’s a lot of hype over nothing, don’t worry about it’. And yes, I agree, and I am not some massive hypochondriac that is scared to travel anywhere with tropical diseases – I am well-travelled and not usually fazed by such things. I don’t want to talk about my personal health issues here on a public blog, but just to say that, for me personally, the zika virus has reason to make me question whether the benefits of going to compete in Cozumel outweigh the risks involved in doing so.

So, here I am, two weeks out from the Dambuster and of the mind-set that even if I qualify, I likely won’t take up the place. The age-group qualification system is complicated, and one of the many processes you have to go through is to pre-declare your intention to qualify by registering your interest with the BTF and paying a processing fee of £10. Even if you finish first in your age group, –  indeed, even if you win the race outright at a qualifying event – if you have not registered and paid this £10, you cannot be selected for the GB team. It seems bizarre as it can mean that a weaker team is often selected as a result, but that’s just the way it’s done. I was so adamant that even if I qualified, I wouldn’t take up the place, that I almost didn’t bother to register and pay the fee, but Matt persuaded me that for just a tenner, I would be daft not to and I would buy myself some time to make a proper decision if I did qualify. It did mean, however, that I went into the race less motivated than I would have been, had I been desperate to qualify, like I was at the Clumber Park Duathlon.

And so to race day. The race was the day after my birthday – bad scheduling! – and so I spent the majority of my birthday traversing the UK on various over-crowded motorways. A stop at the Gloucester Farm Services for a proper cup of coffee was pretty much the highlight! I wasn’t feeling all that energized and up for this one. Aside from the qualifying/not taking up place issue, I had been struggling with a string of coughs and colds since Slateman in May. June also comes with the added bonus of being hayfever season. I had just about shifted one cold, then did the South Hams tri and it came back again with a vengeance. As a result, my training volume had had to drop off and my fitness levels had taken a nose-dive. I wasn’t hitting my usual times on my hill reps when running, and my swimming had suffered tremendously. A CSS timed swim one week before Dambuster saw me post a time of 7:24 for 400m: slower than the 7:15s I usually bash out with ease as part of a 4 x 400m intervals set. I was feeling constantly tired, had had to have a day off sick from work for the first time since I’ve been in this job, and basically I knew that what my body needed was a mid-season break, not to be heading into my targeted ‘A’ race feeling physically tired and mentally drained.

On the drive up in the car my nose was constantly running. I tried to tell myself it was hayfever, conveniently ignoring the fact that we were sealed in, windows shut, and air-con on. Saturday morning, race day, alarm goes at 5am and yes, it’s confirmed, I have another sodding cold. I’m totally bunged up, feeling groggy, extremely low on energy and have zero enthusiasm for getting out of bed and going to swim 1500m in a freezing cold lake, nevermind the 42k of cycling and 10k of running that was to follow. There’s only so much that excessive amounts of nasal decongestant spray and coffee can do for you when you’re in this sorry state!

The women’s wave was the last wave to go off, at 7:40am, but all competitors had to be racked before the first wave at 6am. This led to a lot of standing around, getting cold and wishing I could just get on with the thing and get it over with and finally celebrate my birthday! It was the largest mass swim start I have experienced yet, with 150 females all lined up together. The first buoy came very soon, about 100m into the swim, and so it was obvious from watching all the male waves go off that the swiftest and most direct line was by starting on the far right hand-side. The advice is that if you don’t like the washing machine effect, either start at the back, or start on the far edge of the line and take a longer route. No, I’m not the best swimmer, but I am ridiculously competitive and so there was no way I was going to swim any farther than I had to, so I started on the far right, about 3 rows back. We hit the first buoy en masse and it was total carnage. I lost count of the amount of elbows and feet I had pummel me in the face. Two or three people tried to swim over the top of me; it was just horrid! I was glad when we rounded that buoy and the field started to thin out and I could find some clear water, start to establish my own rhythm, and get my breathing back under control.

At 1500m this was the longest openwater swim I have done to date, and it seemed to go on and on and on. What I found though was the longer it went on, the stronger and smoother I felt, and in the latter part of the swim I started to pick people off. That said, I was very relieved to round the final buoy and turn for the exit! Swim time: 32:00. Earlier in the year I would have expected 29 – 30 minutes, but, like I said, I haven’t been well for a month or so and this was a pretty accurate reflection of where my swim had dropped off to!

Women's wave mass start at Rutland Water.

Charge! To the first buoy.

Here it comes: the creature from the black lagoon!

A smile of relief that the swim is done!

The usual faff with wetsuit / numb hands from freezing cold lake combo. 

Onto the bike and I knew I had a lot of places to make up (later found out I was the 102^nd woman out of the water – shockingly bad!). We had driven part of the bike course the day before and the race organiser’s description of ‘hilly but not technical; suits a strong biker’ proved to be spot on. There was barely any flat ground to be found, but the hills were long, straight and sweeping and I found I didn’t need to hit the brakes once. It really suited me as I am strong on hills, but a Jessie on technical descents, and these descents didn’t bother me as you could see what was coming. The route was mainly along A-roads, which would have been near empty when the first elite male wave went off at 6am, but were getting busier by the time we hit them at 8:15am, but they were wide enough and, apart from one congested village, I didn’t need to adjust my speed for traffic. It was, however, a very windy day, and although the course was effectively a large rectangle, it seemed that whichever direction we turned into, it felt like a headwind! I knew I was making up ground as I was picking off rider after rider and nobody came past me, but I was acutely aware that that was because there were only about 50 ladies left behind me after the swim and most of those would be the slightly less athletic ones, so that wasn’t really an indicator of me having a good bike, more an indicator of how atrocious my swim was!

Into T2 after a bike split of 1h19, averaging just under 20mph for a hilly course. I didn’t know how this compared to the other women out front, but as an indicator, I knew that when my friend Lucy Commander rode this exact same course as part of the Dambuster Duathlon, in which she qualified for the GB age-group duathlon team, she posted a bike split of….. 1h19! So that was at least a sign that I’d had a fairly decent spin.

Help! Which way to the run out?! (2 hours of hanging around before my wave start and I didn't think to check this, doh!)

Off on the run, which was a flat out-and-back 10k along the lakeside path and out over the dam, from whence the race derives its name. The route is a big curve and so, when you turn at the halfway point, you can see the finish across the lake and it looks so tantalisingly close, and yet you know it is actually 5km away! I felt comfortable on the first half and arrived at the halfway turn bang on 20 minutes. My plan was to lift the pace on the return stretch, but I turned and suddenly realised why I’d felt so comfortable: I’d had a tail wind on the outward leg, and now had a stiff headwind, with nowhere to shelter from it on the exposed dam. My pace dropped off slightly and I was starting to get very low on energy, having to dig really deep into my reserves in the last couple of K. My main motivator was to finish and then I could have my well over-due birthday celebrations and prosecco!! My 10k run split of 40:30 was the 5^th fastest female run of the day. Not enough though to make up for the 10 minutes I lost on the swim and when I went to get my print out of my finish time and position I was both shocked and disheartened to see I’d come 32^nd female overall and 10^th in my age-cat. This is the lowest I have ever placed at any form of race, and it was a bit of a leveller as to where I am at when faced with quality competition. As an indicator of the exceptionally high standard at this race, there wasn’t a hybrid bike in sight, nobody was cycling in their running shoes, and my poor Cannondale was pretty much the cheapest bike on the rack! It again made me question whether there is any point in me even doing tris whilst I am losing so much time on the swim. I certainly had written off Mexico qualification, as I needed top 4 (definitely not 10^th!) in my age group to secure auto-qualification.

Just caught this Jersey age-grouper in the last 200m of the run!

Happy to finish this one.

Mind you, this was before I'd seen the results and realised I'd come 32nd, so this smile soon faded!

The one bonus of finishing so far down the pecking order was that there was no hanging around post-race for prize giving! I’d had enough; I was cold, wet, full of lurgy, and I knew that there was an exceptionally large bath tub waiting for me back at our hotel room! Post-bath, it felt like I’d been up for so long it should be dinner time, but in reality it was still only midday! We spent the afternoon exploring Melton Mowbray. No pork pies were consumed, but a very large (and very early!) meal was enjoyed… and yes, it did include prosecco!

Hello megga tub! My husband has a habit of choosing good hotels!

Hellz to the yes! Let the belated birthday celebrations commence!

After 3 nights in Rutland we went on to Stratford-on-Avon for 3 nights and saw 2 productions at the RSC and made the use of my free staff entry by visiting multiple N.T. properties, indulging in the odd cappuccino and scone along the way! After that we had a further 3 nights in Birmingham and we had tickets for all three days of the British Athletics Championships. A great itinerary, but unfortunately I spent most of the holiday ill: turns out that doing a triathlon on a cold doesn’t actually speed up the healing process, who’d’a thought?!

Pre-show drinks by the river outside the RSC in Stratford.

Ready to watch Dr. Faustus - but feeling knackered and full of cold, as you can no doubt see!

At the British Athletics Championships in Birmingham.

Halfway through the holiday I checked my emails and was flabbergasted to receive an email from British Triathlon to say I’d been given one of 6 discretionary places for the GB team for the world triathlon championships in Mexico. I had totally written this possibility off, finishing so far down the pecking order, but it turns out that as the Dambuster was by far the toughest selection race on offer, due to the high quality field, they decided to allocate all of those 6 discretionary places to participants at this event, so I just snuck in through a rapidly closing backdoor!

Am I going to Mexico? Jury’s still out on that one. I am very near to making a decision though, so will save that announcement for my next blog!