Too bogged down to put a blog down...

So, blogging hasn’t happened in a while. That is because my six month old’s sleep hasn’t really happened either, and my ability to find time do the former is dependent upon his ability to do the latter. Clearly, we are both failing in our respective tasks. I used to blog when he was on me, asleep, in his sling, but he has now outgrown the sling forward facing and as there isn’t a cat in hell’s chance of him falling asleep outward facing when there is far too much to keep him entertained and awake, so we have lost that weapon in our armour. In its place: pram pushing. Miles upon miles of pram pushing. Congratulations to all those who correctly predicted that by running with him in the womb throughout pregnancy I was setting myself up for an active baby who needs to be in perpetual motion to sleep: you were right. But sadly for you, there is no prize! My prize? Being constantly on the go and perpetually knackered. His night time sleeping is still at newborn levels (waking and needing feeding in order to resettle every 2 hours) and up to 8 miles of pram walking a day makes for one extremely exhausted Mummy. On top of this, I have been trying to stick with my training schedule and doing some form of swim, bike or run training six days a week because, in a moment of madness, I decided to enter the ITU (world) and ETU (European) sprint duathlon qualifying races and try to make it onto the GB team for the world and Euro champs in 2020.

My fitness on the bike is back to where it was pre-baby, in fact, I almost think it is better. The average speeds I am hitting on what feel like easy aerobic base rides are far superior to where I was at 18 months ago. I haven’t done an FTP test to see where I am at power-wise and, to be honest, I don’t really care as I simply don’t have the time or flexibility to commit to a structured training schedule that works off numbers right now. Everything is done on feel as and when I can fit it in, but I have always been pretty good at judging my efforts on the 1-10 RPE scale, so I am just basing all my training on that. Not very scientific, but that is the approach I had prior to taking on a coach in 2018 and that is the approach that got me to the European champs in 2017 and got me a silver medal. Besides, it’s the only approach that logistically works for me and my family right now. If I were to follow a regimented coaching plan, I would just be left feeling constantly guilty: guilty that I am asking too much of others to help look after my baby whilst I train; guilty of not being with my baby when he needs me because my plan says it’s swim time now, not Sylvester time; and guilty to the plan and/or my coach because there would inevitably be several missed sessions when my full-time job as a Mum just takes priority over a training plan. It would add pressure to the whole thing and, right now, I am under enough pressure just trying to survive with a baby who doesn’t much see the point of sleep or who is in too much discomfort with reflux and teething to be able to sleep. What I need now is for exercise to be escapism, my bit of 'me' time, and for me to just enjoy it as and when I am able.

So I have put in for these qualifiers but am going into them not expecting much. The way things are going with Sylvester’s night time sleep, I know I will be towing the start line already knackered and therefore at a disadvantage to most of my fellow competitors who have had a nice easy taper week, put their feet up, got the good nutrients on board and had a few nights good quality slumber. I will be relying on coffee to get me through. Coffee and a can-do attitude… let’s hope it’s enough!

My running has ben steadily improving and my times also. This weekend I managed a 5k parkrun in 20:13; still two minutes down on my PB but only a minute shy of my best since I made the switch from being exclusively a runner to a multi-sport athlete in 2015. As my bikes times seem to have improved slightly, this should hopefully only see me around 1 minute slower than where I was at for the other qualifying races I competed in, in which I won my category on all three occasions (to qualify I only need to place top 4, so I am confident that this is achievable… baring mechanical disasters!!)

Nope, not walking a parkrun - walking to the start of a parkrun, namely Southwick in Trowbridge

Southwick parkrun - my 210th parkrun at 49 different events

And another new Post-partum parkrun Pb (a p-p.p.pb) of 20:13

I have been thoroughly enjoying the running and have been pleasantly surprised by how quickly I have regained my fitness. The leg speed has been slower to return, but the endurance – to say I am doing nothing longer than 4 miles in one go – is there. I was so shocked to place second lady at the ever popular and competitive Totnes 10k at the start of August and be only 1m30s slower than my course best time, which I set in 2013 when I was at my fittest and running all my PBs. Plus being able to reset the clock from the date I gave birth has given me a mental boost: rather than seeing a 20:13 parkrun 5k as a disappointing 2 minutes slower than my PB, I can see view it as yet another post-partum parkrun PB (or, as I have coined it, a quadruple ‘p’), and I have had the pleasure of setting a few of those over the past few months, seeing my times fall from the high 23 mins when I first started back, down to the low 20s. Very motivating! We have also been continuing our tour of the country parkrun by parkrun! My total now reaching 49 different events over 210 runs and 20 volunteers (with the goal of hitting the big 50 in Gloucester this weekend). Last Saturday was Southwick: we had to leave at 7am to get there, but that is no longer a chore when we have already been awake for 2 hours anyway!

Totnes 10k: one of my fave trail races; I have run it 5 times now

2nd lady, only 1m30s slower than my course best: a most unexpected result!

My 5 month old giving my prize his 'Syl' of approval...

Also, since Sylvester turned 6 months, I have been able to run with him in his running buggy, a big plus as it means I can now combine my training with his nap time: for a baby who will only nap in a buggy on the move, this now means 6 miles of walking and one 4 mile run as opposed to 8 miles of walking (4 naps x 2 miles each, minimum, assuming he is quick to doze off… longer if the first mile sees him still in the land of the wide-awake!) plus a separate training run on top, bringing my daily foot-fall to well over 10 miles…. all on the back of atrociously disturbed sleep. It’s a good job I am a naturally energetic person and powered by Duracell as I think lesser mortals running on cheap batteries from the pound store would have long since fallen by the wayside! But even I have my limits and this week has been particularly tough: terrible nights of teething and reflux screaming, doctor’s appointments, new medication, baby not gaining weight etc etc and the worry of all this on top of the sleep deprivation and training fatigue has even got to me, super-Mum (Sylvester bought me a mug for Mother’s Day that says I am, so it must be true!). There have been 3 rest days in the past 5 days: unheard of! (By "rest" I simply mean no training, of course that pram still needs pushing come rain or shine!)

Buggy running at Haldon Forest with my boy!

An unexpected side-effect of all these challenges is that I can literally eat whatever I want, in vast quantities, and I still weigh around 5lbs less than before I was pregnant. A lot of people have commented that I am looking rather slim for someone who recently gave birth and I think they assume that I have made ditching the baby bulge a priority, but this couldn’t be further from the truth. For once I didn’t care that my stomach wasn’t toned and my physique at last resembles that of a woman rather than an athletic teenage boy (I have the short hair again, but this time I also have hips and boobs, and so the question put to my parents at races in seasons gone by – ‘How old is your son?’ – should na’er again be repeated!) I was prepared for it to take as long as it takes to get back in shape as I now had something more important in my life than the vacuous achievement of looking fit and toned: I was finally a Mum!! Indeed, I was shocked by the rate at which the weight just fell off, especially in the two weeks immediately after the birth and I was back at my pre-pregnancy weight by 14 days post-partum. But when I do the maths, it’s not too surprising. 500 calories a day are burned just breastfeeding. I burn an addition 500 – 1000 (depending on the activity and length of it) six days a week doing my training; then there are the miles upon miles of pram walking (at least another 500 calories). Lastly, factor in that when I am at home, I am never just sat around anymore: I am running around! Changing nappies, doing the laundry, carrying a baby, playing with a baby, moving a baby from one activity station to the next because he got bored there after 10 minutes… and in between this there are multiple visits to the fridge to shovel food in. I am probably burning around 2000 calories a day on top of the 2000 I already burn just existing. 4000 calories a day is an awful lot of food to put back in, particularly when finding time to prepare and eat food is a challenge, so on top of my three regular meals, things like dairy-free cakes and chocolate etc have also featured. Bloody hell – there have to be some treats to keep me going and sadly gin and prosecco are still off the menu whilst I’m breastfeeding!

Got to skidaddle now: my boys are back! I sacked off a bike ride today because I am just too knackered to contemplate it and so my kind and supportive husband, who has taken the week off work to support me, took our boy out in the pram this afternoon to give me a couple of hours chill time. Chill time over: they are back! Hopefully write a post about how the qualifying races go (one in September, one in October)… so maybe get chance to write about them before January is over?! Who knows…. That is all rather dependent upon a certain little someone who is now here next to me, eyeing up my boob with longing (men huh, they never change in this regard!), so must dash!

Of todgers that squirt and those who bathe in dirt

In my last blog I spoke with good intentions of trying to be a little bit less perfectionistic and a tad more relaxed about things. I was under no illusions: I have had such good intentions innumerable times before and have inevitably slipped back into my old stress-head ways very soon after. I am the one who can’t sit still; the one who rolls up her yoga mat and leaves the hall before the savasana (relaxation) bit starts. I am the one who over-analyses everything and has the ‘not good enough’ record stuck on repeat in her brain. I am the one who never thinks she’s done enough training, who could do more, be more focussed, be more disciplined. I am the one who constantly compares herself to others (race-circuit triathletes who are faster than me; other Mums at the sensory class who breeze in looking effortlessly cool with their babies asleep in their carry-cots, whose babies don't cry, feed calmly then lie down on the floor to play with the toys, while I arrive in a flap, trying to juggle carry-cot containing already whimpering child, changing bag and backpack full of "essentials" and figure out how I'm going to change him, feed him and then keep him upright so he doesn't scream with reflux pain and disrupt the entire class). I am the one who always finds herself lacking. My husband both loves me and despairs of me for it in equal measure. He wishes I could still be the energetic, bubbly Ellie on the outside, but be equally as confident and outgoing on the inside. A life time of ingrained personality traits and behaviours is hard to change overnight though, but it doesn’t mean I can’t give it a damn good try and hopefully feel much happier within myself for doing so.

So, with this goal in mind, I have tried to start by shifting the focus of my athletic performance away from numbers, times, percentages, placings etc to experiences, enjoyment and accomplishment. In my last two races (also my first two races back since giving birth in February) my main aim has been to get round in one piece and enjoy myself in the process. As we are dealing in the realm of ‘feelings’ here, it’s hard to assess whether or not I have met these goals; however, for more tangible proof, I only need to look at the marked reduction in the number of pre-race toilet trips due to performance anxiety and nerves to surmise that I’ve at least in part nailed it!

My first outing was at the Anglesey Trail 10k in Newborough Forest, North Wales, on June 1^st. I entered this race in March after we booked our first family holiday to Snowdonia to visit who I affectionately refer to as my ‘Welsh family’ (Moira and Sarah, with whom I lived in Llanberis when studying for my PhD and working as a French tutor at Bangor University back when I took up running in 2010). In March, June seemed a long way off and so I was confident I would have increased my mileage enough by then to make running a 10k a feasible ask. Yeh. That didn’t happen. What did happen is that I got carried away feeling the amazing effects of breastfeeding extra-oxygenated blood at Seaton parkrun at 5 weeks post-partum and my legs were unable to match my lungs and my troublesome left calf cramped up at 2.4 miles. One minute I was trotting along euphorically as 2^nd lady, thinking ‘well, if I feel this good 5 weeks after giving birth, who knows what’s possible’, the next minute I was hobbling back to the car thinking what an idiot I was. I then couldn’t run for 3 weeks, followed by a very slow walk-jog rehab phase, followed by another slight calf tweak, followed by…. oh shit, the 10k is in two weeks’ time and I have only run two parkruns in preparation. I decided to give it a whirl, take it very conservatively and walk bits of it if I needed to.

Ready for the off. First outing for the AVR vest, as I joined the club a month before getting pregnant!

The gun goes and off I jog at a very comfortable 8m/m. I suddenly find myself right up at the front with about four other men and no women. I check my watch: still 8m/m and feeling easy, so just keep going at this pace. By some miracle, I soon find myself out alone in second place overall with just one guy about 200m up the trails in front of me. The race covers a stunning route, including sand dunes, springy forest tracks and more technical, twisting sections. For June, the weather is abysmal. Cold and wet. I worry about how Matt is coping looking after our 15 week old baby in these grim conditions, with nowhere other than the car for shelter. A good incentive to get back quickly and ensure they are both ok. The last mile is a tough slog into a strong headwind coming in off the sea and through thick, claggy sand. It’s energy sapping and my pace drops off to 8:45m/m, even though it’s relatively flat! The finish line was a welcome sight and the announcer calling me out as first lady and second overall is a welcome sound. Spectators are ringing cowbells and as I turn towards the finish I see there is a winner’s tape being held out for me to break. I am elated. I never expected this. I hoped, at best, to get around in one piece without my calf playing up. I ran relaxed and the win was a bonus but not the goal. The prize haul (see below) was pretty impressive too, even if hanging around for the podium presentations in the pouring rain put my husband into a grumpy mood and delaying my son’s access to boob juice put him into an even grumpier one!

We're off - 10k to go.. more than I've run in total in the previous 2 weeks!

Finish line feels! Taking the tape is always special, but when my husband and 4 month old son are stood by it watching, it's even more so!

Good prizes!

Next up, Killerton Sprint Duathlon. I had a deferred entry for this race as I discovered that I was pregnant 3 days before last year’s event and no way was I going to race bikes whilst carrying such long-awaited, precious cargo. Matt and I met at Killerton, doing the parkrun there, back in 2013. When I left my career in education in 2015, I took a job there as a ‘stop gap’ whilst trying to get pregnant. That took longer than anticipated (4 years longer) and so I am still there, though on maternity leave at the moment. It is a lovely place to work and an even nicer place to compete. The acres of parkland, contouring around a disused volcano, make the terrain challenging and varied. An off-road run and a road bike is my ideal combination for a duathlon and so this 5k – 20k – 3k sprint race ticked all the boxes. Typically our wee man, who is going through the dreaded 4 month sleep regression phase, decided to give us the worst night’s sleep since he was a newborn. Not ideal pre-race preparation, being awoken on the hour, every hour, from 11pm through to 6am, at which point he finally decided he would fall asleep until 7:30am, but I had to get up! Probably not Matt’s preferred way to spend his first father’s day either, being left holding the baby after a sleepless night whilst his nutter of a wife raced around the Devonshire countryside. I expressed a feed for Matt to give him and then I chugged 2 strong cups of coffee to satisfy my liquid needs!

Bit better weather than in North Wales for the Killerton Duathlon!

Last year this event offered both a sprint and a standard distance, but this year they only ran the sprint. This meant that two fields were condensed into one and so the line up was much more competitive. A quick glance at the ladies warming up and I deemed I would be lucky to place top 10. Then I remembered, do it for fun. No pressure. It’s your birthday tomorrow, this is your treat. Enjoy it. Be sensible. No expectations. Que sera sera etc. We’re off across the rutted, cow-pat covered field and my legs are slow to get going. Even when fully fit, I have always been more about endurance than speed, but since pregnancy they just don’t seem interested in anything quicker than 7m/m. Fitness-wise though, I felt very comfortable: all puff, no pace! I was well down the field after the first run – even though I did pick a few people off on my preferred uphill sections – and as there were relay teams in the mix too, it was impossible to gauge what position I was actually in. 

At the end of the first run.

The stunning grounds of Killerton make for a good run course.

Onto the bike and off to Collumpton! Wow! This feels amazing. Zipping along at 27, 28mph feeling easy. 6 miles later, turnaround at the farthest point of the course, realise why it felt so damn amazing: we had a considerable tailwind. So, headwind all the way home and as the field is now strung out, I am all on my own for most of it. I do note, however, a couple of groups engaging in some rather blatant drafting. I always race honest; even if that means a slower split and a solo slog into the wind. Integrity is more important than ill-gotten gains. My pace on the return leg is much slower but the overall 20k bike split comes in at 35:57 for a 20mph average: I’ll take that for my first race back! To be honest, on the start line, I had apprehensions about the bike. I wasn't sure how I would feel racing on open roads now that I have a tiny wee fellow waiting for me at the finish, relying on me to return in one piece. I have observed a marked decline in the attitude of motorists towards cyclists in the 9 months I had off whilst pregnant, and it wasn't in a great place to start with. Luckily this race was early morning on a quiet, open route and so I did not feel threatened. I think my days of racing time trials on the S26/10 course along the A30 dual carriageway towards Honiton may be behind me though!

Bike leg done! 20mph average: I'll take it!

The usual ungraceful mess at the dismount line and I spill into T2, nearly getting cramp trying to put my running shoes back on. Just the second run to go: come on legs, you can do it! But they can’t! At least, they are extremely reluctant to. The distinct lack of brick training makes its ugly presence felt and I lug my thunder thighs around the hilly 3k loop at a rather lacklustre 7:55m/m. But I make it and my strong bike split (2^nd fastest) sees me finish as 3^rd female overall. I tried to steer clear of having any pre-race expectations, but if I did, they were certainly not that! A podium place at my first multi-sport outing just 4 months after giving birth and on barely any run training: a performance to be proud of. A confidence giving performance too and one that has persuaded me to sign up for the GB team qualifying race for the 2020 European sprint duathlon championships. The qualifying event is in Bedford in October: hopefully enough time to get a bit fitter and to get to grips with draft-legal racing as this has subsequently been introduced since I raced for GB at the Euros in Soria in 2017.

Finish funnel thumbs up with buddy Anne watching on!

Back home and I decide to kill two birds with one stone by opting for a bath instead of a shower and having our baby boy join me to save both time and water giving him a separate bath later. As usual, his todger goes off all over me the minute he gets in the water, but I exact my revenge as I realise that my legs were covered in mud and cow muck picked up on the off-road run course around the Killerton grounds. I giggle at how we are both sat there, wallowing in each other's grime and urine, and both grinning away at it, happy as two proverbial pigs in shit! 

The day after the duathlon was my 36^th birthday and I celebrated it by visiting the Life Centre in Plymouth to have a much needed sports massage from my sponsor, Patrick, at PDW Sports. (Not quite a spa day and an aromatherapy massage, but of far more use to me!). Thanks to Patrick for his continuing support in 2019 and also for the parenting advice he simultaneously imparts to me alongside the massage. He is 2 years further down the parental time line with his little boy and so it’s definitely time well spent getting my legs flushed out whilst discussing green poo, the merits of Calpol, sleep deprivation and unruly bath-time todger incidents... amongst other things!

Good enough?

I am back in training. During pregnancy I was reticent to call any exercise I did ‘training’ as it didn’t have a specific end goal, other than to keep me relatively fit, healthy and sane. Now, however, the workouts I manage to squeeze in to my manically hectic weeks have more of a purpose and so training has officially resumed…. but it looks very different to how it looked pre-baby!

The biggest change is the lack of structure to my weeks. I fit in what I can, when I can, around being a Mum. This may mean that some weeks, such as those with a bank holiday when Matt is around more to help look after Sylvester, see me covering some pretty decent mileage, whilst others are thinner on the ground. A training week pre-baby would typically see in the region of 12-15 hours of various cardio, strength and yoga workouts; now 5 hours is a good week and 2-3 is more typical. This means a shift in focus from quantity to quality and the intensity of the workouts, particularly the cycles, is much higher. If I’ve only got 30 minutes before Matt has to leave for work, then I need to make those 30 minutes count and include some high intensity efforts. If my long rides are now limited to 90 minutes max between Sylvester’s feeds, then I hit the hills hard to ensure a good cardio and strength workout. It seems to be working as I am feeling super strong on the bike. The running, hmm, that is taking a little longer to crack.

After coming back too fast too soon at Seaton parkrun at 5 weeks post-partum and tweaking my left calf, I have had to reel the speed in somewhat. My brain is raring to race but my body just isn’t quite ready yet. All the muscles slacken off during late pregnancy to allow you push something the size of a melon out of an opening the size of a grape and those muscles take a while to regain their strength and return to normal after. I need to remember this and be mindful that my left leg is injury-prone at the best of times and so playing the long game is what’s needed. That said, I feel fit cardio-wise and I have now managed three parkruns in the 23 minute region running very much within myself, so it’s just a case of being patient, strengthening the legs and hopefully those times will continue to tumble.

I have mentioned before the positive effects of breastfeeding in oxygenating the blood and essentially giving your body the effect of being on natural EPO. A lot of women have benefitted from this and have gone on to produce PBs and outstanding performances in the year after giving birth. Ultra runner, Jasmin Paris’ Spine record being a classic example, but also Irish runner Fionnuala Birtton, who recently ran a 2h30 marathon 6 months post-partum is another who has been in the sport a long time, seemingly plateaued and then benefitted from a resurgence thanks to the effects of breastfeeding. Due to these well documented performances, and also to local club athletes I know who have followed a similar trend, there is a lot of pressure on me to go out and bust out a few post-partum PBs already. Mainly it’s a pressure I exert upon myself, but comments from other runners along the lines of ‘Oh, I expect you’ll be back in the sub 20-min 5k club again by Easter’ only add to that pressure. I am, by nature, a perfectionist and the hardest of task-masters on myself; add to this a highly driven, competitive personality and often highly ambitious goals and I pretty much exist in a pressure-cooker environment that sets me up for failure. My husband frequently despairs of me and recently bought me this book….

With a baby who won’t be put down, a home to run and trying to fit in training, I haven’t yet had chance to read any of it, but it is about learning to quash the inner voice that tells you that you aren’t good enough, that you don’t matter, that you have to be constantly amazing at everything and appear in control at all times whilst doing so. Essentially, it is about learning to silence the negative mind chatter – the monkey on your shoulder who leads you to self-doubt – and to learn to love you as you are, warts and all: someone who is not perfect but who is good enough. And good enough should be enough. I have the most adorable baby, whom I have been trying for for four years and had begun to doubt I would ever get; I have a loving, caring husband who provides for us to ensure that I can be a full-time Mum with the option of returning to work or not; I have a lovely house in a lovely rural location near to both of our parents; I have friends, plenty of them, and good friends…. This should all be enough… and yet a part of me still feels that this isn’t. A part of me still feels inadequate. I need to be an amazing athlete too. And I need to be the best Mum. Sylvester needs to have his tummy time, he needs to be stimulated, and socialise with other babies, and he needs enough sleep to consolidate his learning (he only napped in the sling for 45 minutes when the book says he should be napping for 2 hours), and he needs to hold his rattle, in both hands… and shouldn’t he be holding his head up now? (one of the babies at sensory class is the same age as him and holding his head up already, are we behind?)… and I need to take him to baby swim lessons to get him used to the water, and shouldn’t he be able to roll over soon too?... oh gosh, I haven’t read to him today – I must read to him to nurture his intellect… and why is he screaming all the time when the other babies are chilled? Is it me? It must be me, I must be a rubbish Mum.... Yes, the negative mind chatter applies to my parenting too and the perfectionistic pressures I place upon myself are in danger of being transferred to Sylvester…. God help the poor wee lad: I can only hope that my influence is counteracted by his father’s rather more relaxed approach.

So, my main sporting goals for the 2019 season have been somewhat tweaked. Finish in the top three at Honiton Triathlon and Killerton Duathlon and qualify for the GB sprint duathlon team for the 2020 Euros have been knocked down the priority list and replaced by the following:

•          Enjoy spending quality time with my family
•          Enjoy being able to train when I can and maybe do a few local races for the fun and endorphin rush
•          Venture to some new parkruns and find inventive ways that allow Matt and I to both run them (such as our baby-baton change over at Heartlands parkrun two weeks ago)
•          Remove the focus away from times/results and towards experiences
•          Be less ‘full on’ in my approach to everything and instead aim for a healthy, happy balance in life

·         Accept that ‘good enough’ will do just fine, thank you, and that Matt, Sylvester and my parents will love me the same whether I run an 18 minute 5k or a 28 minute one…

Good enough is just that; perfection is an unattainable goal. My value as a person does not increase as my parkrun times decrease. Being fit enough to even compete in a parkrun so soon after giving birth is a massive achievement in itself: I do not need to win the thing to justify my status as an athlete. In trying to fit everything in and in trying to be amazing – as both an athlete and a Mum – I am in danger of missing out on this precious time with my little miracle man. And Sylvester might not be the perfect baby, he has his health challenges with his reflux and he cries more than the average baby as a result, but he’s absolutely perfect to me. I might not be the perfect Mum, but I am doing my best and that is good enough. I might not be the fastest runner in Devon and busting out those post-partum PBs yet… I may never do that and my PB days may well be behind me. But I am running, and keeping fit, and doing what I can, when I can, despite the hectic schedule and diminished sleep and demands of motherhood. Surely, this is more than enough?

At Heartlands parkun in Cornwall - my 199th parkrun at my 45th different location

My 200th parkrun celebration cake, made by the lovely Anne Ephraums

Sylvester took a liking to the cake and made a grab for it - baby-led weaning on cake at 13 months?!

With N1 Tri club buddies Anne and Jim - Anne has been such a support to me since having Sylvester and often brings me baking or comes over to look after him for 30 minutes so I can squeeze in a run. Thank you!!

'Though he be but little he be fierce'!

Our wee man is 9 weeks old today. In baby terms, he's actually not so wee, weighing in at just shy of a stone already and he's growing at a pace that my arm strength is struggling to keep up with! He was in 3-6 month clothing at 6 weeks: what a porker! That’s what comes of having a 6’4” Dad and a 5’7” Mum! I cannot believe how quickly time flies when you are living your life in 3 hourly blocks between feeding-winding-nappy changing sessions (sleep features minimally – he doesn’t like napping in the day as he seems to be frightened of missing out on something!) For something so tiny he has had a massive impact on our daily lives. Mind you, between the endless 3 hourly feeding cycles, I have managed to fit in a surprising amount of training!

I must highlight from the off that me being able to resume training has only been possible thanks to the amazing support of my family as he still cannot be put down in the day due to his silent reflux. My visions of having him napping next to me in his moses basket whilst I pedal merrily away on my spin bike, or chilling in his pram in the middle of the nearby cricket pitch whilst I run reps around him have proved to be wild visions of my antenatal idealistic imagination! Thank God I only paid £25 for his moses basket from Aldi as it has seen no use since he reflux kicked in at week 2! It does, however, provide a good storage facility for his cuddley toys, so it is getting some use! I have become the master of in-sling activities, including doing the washing, cooking and even blogging with him on me in the sling (see photo for evidence!). If we go out for lunch, I hope he is chilled enough in his sling to allow me to sit down, but mostly he isn’t a fan of Mummy sitting on her backside and prefers her to be on the move: Yes, well done to all you wise cracks who correctly predicted that by running with him in the womb and swimming up until week 39 of pregnancy I was setting myself up for a baby who won’t sleep unless moving! Many coffees out with friends have been “enjoyed” with me stood up pacing around the table while they sit down like normal people! Meals are also taken with him chilling in his sling below. The sling is now covered in a varied manner of curry sauce, tomato juice and guacamole stains and he invariably ends up with my lunch secreted about his person: today’s treat was a smoked salmon and samphire sandwich; hastag, first world baby problems…. Yes, our wee man has his challenges, bless him, and apparently reflux affects boys more than girls (as I keep saying, boyz iz trouble). Life as a Mum is not at all as I had envisioned – I think whatever you envision, it will end up surprising you at every turn – but that is the magic of it and those precious moments towards the end of a feed cycle when he is not screaming with the acid burning from his previous feed or else screaming because he is gearing up for another grubbing, are truly joyous. And as for my first smile, which he dutifully gave me on my first Mother’s Day, it melted my heart. Those moments make all the struggles worthwhile. Anyway, I digress. I promise that this is not turning into an exclusively mother-and-baby-blog and is still very much sport focussed; however, I cannot not touch upon the huge impact this tiny little being has had on my sport and so he will inevitably feature in some capacity in most of my blog posts from now on. Anyway, down to sporting business…

In sling blogging.

In sling baking. 

Training has resumed in earnest. After recommencing some easy running 11 days after giving birth and subsequently being warned by a fellow Mum and runner friend about the rather unpleasant risks of doing so in the first 6 weeks postpartum, I promptly knocked running on the head again. Cycling also had to wait until, well, er, the old undercarriage had healed a bit. I started back on the spin bike again after 2 weeks but there was A LOT of out of the saddle work in those early days!! I tried running again at 5 weeks postpartum, feeling reassured that everything was ‘back in its rightful place’, and I instantly felt amazing. I knew from some runner friends who had had babies and breastfed them that it can result in increased oxygenated blood and is akin to being on natural EPO with the added bonus that it is entirely legal and you don’t need to provide the BTF with a TUE for it!! They weren’t wrong! I was gliding along effortlessly despite not having done any real cardio efforts since finding out I was pregnant last June. At 6 weeks I decided I was ready for parkrun already… cue impending disaster. Yes, I felt amazing, coasting along at 6:50m/m pace without even being out of breath. Sadly, my legs were no match for my lungs however and after 4 months of not doing any strength work, my calf said ‘no thanks’ 2.4 miles in and so I had to bail. Gutted as I was on for a comeback 5k time in the region of 21 minutes just 6 weeks after giving birth: that’ll teach me to be impatient for results!

Cue a trip to my trusty physio, Nigel Wilman at Honiton, and a diagnosis of a calf cramp (luckily I stopped straight away and so prevented a tear). This was the best case scenario and should heal fairly quickly with some rehabbing and a sensible and slow return to running. Meanwhile, during this glorious sunny weather, I have been enjoying getting out on the bike after sacrificing riding on the open roads whilst I had my precious cargo on board for 9 months. I love riding in the sun and the oxygenated blood cells have been making their presence felt on the bike too as I have been floating up climbs that would previously have had me puffing. Too bad hill climb season isn’t until Autumn as I’m in shape ad raring to go now! Rides are squeezed in between feeds, with either Matt, my Mum or my father-in-law kindly stepping in to wear a baby for an hour. I just have to pray I don’t puncture as I know I would get in a flap about getting back in time for his next feed and totally fluff fixing it. In fact, in my desperation to get back to my baby, I would probably throw pride out the window and play the damsel in distress card and flag down a fellow passing cyclist for assistance!

In terms of a comeback race, I am now undecided. I have entered Ottery 10k on May 12^th but I think it will be a bit too early in terms of my calf rehab to race a 10k on tarmac. There is also the Exe Valley Triathlon that day, with just a 5k run at the end, which might be a more reasonable ask. Of course, I also have the option of being ultra-sensible and waiting a little longer before racing… hmm, yeh, like that’s gonna happen! In terms of bigger goals, I am looking at the GB team qualifying race for the European sprint duathlon championships: the qualifier is in October in Bedford and the championships are in Soria, Spain next year… yes, back to Soria! At least I will know the course and the logistics of travelling to and from the location, which should minimise the stress. Mind you, heading there this time with a baby in tow will maximise the stress, so it’s swings and roundabouts. Much as I feel that my strengths lie in endurance rather than speed, I don’t have the time this year to put in the bike mileage to do the standard distance justice, so the sprint it is.

I have these grand plans but in reality there is now a tiny person on the scene who has the potential to throw multiple toy spanners in the works. Take today for example, I had every intention of going to Torbay to watch and support the sprint triathlon there. Both my own coach, Chris Dominey (name not a coincidence, he’s also my cousin-in-law!) and one of my coached athletes, Sarah Taffler, were taking part, so I would have loved to have supported them, but it was simply too hot to take him out and have him exposed to the blazing sun at the exposed venue. Shame as my sponsor Patrick of PDW Sport was going to be there doing the race massages and I’d have loved a catch up with him. I am so grateful to him for his continued support (and faith!) in me this season; I am heading into unknown territory trying to get back into competitive racing, with the aim of competing for my country again, in the same year as having my first baby, so having regular massage and maintenance on my post-preggers fragile body will be a massive benefit. Thanks Patrick – you are awesome!

I guess the biggest change in training and competing since having a baby is the colossal level of planning that has to be involved. Gone are the days of deciding on a whim that as it’s sunny out I might like to head out on the bike. No more arranging with friends to coffee-ride together at 10am, as at 10am I might have a baby on my boob and timescales vary massively from one day to the next. Sessions are now restricted to an hour tops between feeding cycles. Prioritising is essential: yes, I would love to keep up the yoga classes to help my flexibility, and the core classes to help me regain my strength, but I can only fit in around 5 activities a week, if I'm lucky, and when you do a sport that already involved 3 activities, add-ons like yoga are an impossible luxury. Yesterday I drove past a lovely hill and thought, ‘Ooh, I could drive here, park up and do a hill reps session’… and then it hit me: oh yes, you have a baby now, what will you do with him? Can’t exactly leave him in the car at the bottom! Training now involves the goodwill and support of others and will do so for some years to come. It involves being super organised whilst also acknowledging the need to be flexible: if we’ve had a bad night or if baby won’t settle, he is now my priority, NOT fitting in the miles on the bike or the lengths in the pool. For someone so focussed, who likes to do something every day and gets a bit twitchy if I can’t, this is the biggest adjustment. But looking at our wee man’s face as he smiles when he hears his Mummy’s voice makes all the sacrifices worthwhile. Hopefully the breastfeeding blood boosters will compensate for the lack of training anyway!

A month into motherhood

And stone the blinking crows, what a month! No matter how prepared you think you are, you are never ready for the whirlwind of an existence that arrives with the arrival of your new arrival! Sylvester torpedoed into the world mid-February after a ridiculously short labour (little over 2 hours) in which we only just made it to the hospital. It all happened so fast I barely had time to process that I was in labour and, before I knew it, I was lying there, torn wide open, in severe pain and presented with this little being that I was henceforth responsible for, thinking, “What in the hell just happened?” Since then we have stumbled through life in a blur of feeding-winding-nappy changing cycles. Sleeping has featured occasionally but not in any meaningful way and when my husband and I kiss each other good night and say, ‘Sleep well; I’ll see you in 2 hours’, that just about sums up our new life: divided into two hourly blocks! It is truly life (and life-style) changing. I knew it would be, but boy I had no idea to what extent.

I knew my exercise and training regime would have to take a back seat, but I had (somewhat naively!) envisioned scenes of my baby asleep in his Moses basket in my home gym whilst I pedalled merrily away on my spin bike next to him. #Cue hysterical laughter here# For one thing, I have a baby with severe reflux who simply will not be put down during the day: he has not seen the inside of that Moses basket since his first week of life! The only way he will sleep is upright in his sling, being worn around the house or carried over a shoulder. I have been incredibly lucky as my husband has taken 6 weeks off work and so we have been able to divvy up the ‘baby wearing’ duties to share the burden on our aching backs and shoulders and to give each other an hour’s occasional respite between feeds. So I have managed a few short (20 – 30 mins) sessions on my spin bike, but doing so uses up my one free slot of the day (a slot that would probably be better spent catching up on much needed sleep). The other slots are spent doing essential tasks, such as cooking, doing the laundry (how does something so tiny generate so much washing?!), trying to sort out the bomb site that was formerly our neat and orderly home, bathing the wee man (again, a small surface area but a massive undertaking), and generally hunting around the house for mislaid baby socks, muslins, hats, nappy inserts etc. Going out for a coffee is now a task that requires warfare level logistics and planning and we need a small army just to carry all the stuff we have to take with us (again, how can such a small person need so much kit? It’s ridiculous!) We have been to parkrun twice, at week 3 (Exmouth) and week 4 (Seaton), but getting there for 9am meant preparing to leave the house at 7am and getting up and starting feeding at 6am! Three hours of preparing for Matt’s 20 minutes of running: it hardly seems worth it! Suddenly the idea I had of doing the Slateman duathlon in North Wales in May seems laughable; for one thing, we’d never fit all his kit and my kit in the same car, despite it being a large estate! Yep, I have had my eyes well and truly opened and my sporting ambitions for 2019 have been well and truly reined in. The Ottery 10k in May seems as innocuous a place as any to start, not least since the start and finish is less than half a mile from my house and so we might have a chance of making the start on time if we set off the night before!!

Many of the struggles with time stem from my decision to breast feed. I can easily see why so many women start but swiftly abandon and revert to formula feeding. We have faced several battles on our breastfeeding journey, such as our wee man having a 100% tongue tie which had to be operated on (a small procedure, thankfully), his reflux issues, my fast let down exacerbating the wind and reflux and the fact that we seem to have got ourselves a gluttonous booby monster who wants to be guzzling away for up to 90 minutes at any one feeding, with feedings occuring at 2 ½ hourly intervals. I thought my arse and the sofa spent a lot of time getting acquainted in late pregnancy, but this is a whole new level of intimacy that my husband may soon start to suspect … If I bottle fed, Matt and I could share the feeds (oh to be able to share that 2am feed when he is at his most ravenous and can spend up to two hours dining out on my finest quality boob juice). But I am determined to breastfeed: the benefits are so great for both of us and the bond it creates is truly magical… yes, even at 3am when I sigh in Dickensian-style exasperation, “More? You want more?” Got ourselves a regular Oliver Twist here who is porking out like a trooper. Born at 8lb3oz, he was already up to 9lb11oz by two weeks! His mother, on the other hand, is going the other way! The other bonus to breastfeeding: it burns 500 calories a day and, after putting on the best part of 2 stone during pregnancy, I was back down to my pre-pregnancy weight by day 11 without even trying. It really surprised me and scared me a bit, but luckily it has stabilised there and not dropped any further as I literally could not shovel any more food in than I am doing now!

I have one more week with the luxury of an at-home-husband, then the real shit’s gonna go down! If Sylvester is not upright for at least an hour after a feed, he screams in pain from his reflux: it absolutely tears at my soul. How will I shower? How will I get dressed? Nevermind how will I fit in a run or a cycle, ha! What a wildly ridiculous idea! My home gym is now more of a storage facility for baby equipment and my ‘wheels’ are no longer streamlined and skinny but come in pram format. Yes, life has changed, but for the better. They are only tiny for such a short time and so you have to make the most of it all, sleepless nights, being pooed on and all (yes, we’ve had a couple of target hits as I have lifted his legs and bottom to remove his old nappy and the missile has fired). We have liquids of varying levels of viscosity emerging from every orifice these days. My boobs often resemble the Jet d’Eau fountain in Lake Geneva and Sylvester’s highlights have included a huge projectile reflux vomit directly into the plug sockets. I lose count of the times his little todger has gone off as I have peeled back the nappy (what’s with that?!) and he has urinated into his own eyes and mouth… it doesn’t seem to bother him too much: boys are grubby beasts. I used to marvel at how far from the toilet my husband could make his yellow splash marks reach, but this little fellow has reached a whole new level and is fast running out of surfaces upon which to leave his scent markings.

My Ironman ambitions are now Ironmum and it really is the most challenging but most rewarding test of physical and mental endurance in the world. No other achievement in my life compares or even has much significance by comparison.

# Typed stood upright at the breakfast bar with a snoozing Sylvester asleep in his sling!

The year in review: 2018

So, it’s New Year’s Eve and as it’s become customary for me to write a ‘year in review’ type blog I will stick with tradition, even though this year has seen my sporting goals somewhat shafted by other major life events, so the stats don’t read too impressively. But here they are for continuity’s sake anyway and I will attempt to explain away the naffness after:

2018 mileage:

Running: 412 – naffer than naff, my lowest year yet by a long way!

Cycling: 1252 outdoor miles

    1000 (approx) indoor miles on turbo / wattbike / spin classes

Swimming: 99’000mtrs (should have made the effort to round that up!)

2018 races: 

1 x 10k road (4^th lady in 39:44)

1 x 10k multi terrain (1^st lady)

23 x parkrun (parkrun SB of 19:05; 1 x new course record Seaton parkrun 19:20)

1 x standard distance duathlon (2^nd lady, 1^st in age group with auto qualification for the 2018 World Duathlon Championships)

1 x sprint triathlon (7^th lady, on the back of 8 weeks of no exercise)

Qualifications:
BTF Level 1 Coach

It’s an unimpressive and rather diminished list compared to previous years, but where the sporting achievements are lacking, the life goals have been smashed! On 14th June of this year I found out I was pregnant! No-one could have been more shocked than Matt and me as it came the very next month after having undergone a failed round of IVF, after 3 years of trying ourselves and not a sniff, and subsequently being told IVF was our only hope of conceiving. I took the pregnancy test for the failed IVF round on May 12^th… also my Mum’s birthday. I was crushed at not being able to give her the birthday present she most wanted, particularly as my Dad had been ill since February and it was a boost our family desperately needed. Then 6 days later, on 18^th May, my Dad nearly died in rather traumatic circumstances. Me and my Mum found him just in time. That week was probably the lowest of my life.

Throughout the IVF I had been unable to exercise much beyond light walking and yoga and so after 8 weeks off, I returned to race the Exe Valley Triathlon on 13^th May. It seemed like a good idea, to throw myself straight back into it, but my plans to tempo race it went flying out the window once the gun went and competitive Ellie, high on emotions, went wild and pushed herself the whole way. No surprises then that I crossed that finish line injured, having flared up my achillies injury asking it to race hard after 8 weeks of nothing. The worst week of my life and my main coping mechanism – running – was now unavailable to me. Nothing to do but ride it out and hope for better times to come…. I just didn’t realise they would come so soon. By the time my birthday came around (also shared with Father’s Day), my Dad had had the operation he had been waiting for since February and was on the mend, and I was now expecting a baby after being told it wouldn't happen naturally: Ha! In your face, medical science! From miserable May to jubilant June – what a turnaround! 

Suddenly, the fact that I was injured and so wouldn’t be able to take up my place on the GB team at the World Duathlon Champs in Denmark in July was irrelevant. I said from the day I found out I was expecting, no cycling on any open roads, and I have stuck to that. Yes, I know loads of ladies who continue to cycle / horse ride / ski when pregnant, and good for them – each to their own, it’s their body – but for me, having gone through so much to get here, there was no way that any bike ride would be worth the potential risk of a fall, especially when there are safe, indoor alternatives. So, running mileage down due to being injured for most of the year (in fact, most of those 412 miles have been done while pregnant!) Cycling mileage down due to the reason outlined above. Swim mileage slightly down as it's never been my favourite sport and, without a competitive goal, I just can't be arsed with doing the big 2500m+ swim sets, so all swims have been 1500m (my boredom threshold!) or below. Mind you, I have to say that these past few weeks I have come to greatly appreciate the gravity-defying properties of water and the brief aquatic respite from feeling like a 30 stone barriatric surgery candidate when attempting to walk, run or climb stairs! 

The only regret I have is towards those who invested time and effort into helping me achieve my duathlon goals this year. I started the year committed to upgrading my silver medal from Soria to a gold at either the Worlds or the Europeans and so I enlisted the assistance of a coach (also my cousin-in-law, Chris, of Tri Coach Kernow) and I signed a much-valued sponsorship agreement with sports massage therapist, Patrick, of PDW Sports. Things were starting to get serious and the result I got at the world’s qualifier event at Anglian Water in February got me - and no doubt them - excited about the season ahead. So I do feel like I have in some way let Chris and Patrick down by being a ‘typical bloody woman and getting herself pregnant’, but in reality I know that this is just me being stupid and that they know what this baby means to me and that no sporting result can ever come close. So, maybe it was bad timing in some ways, but perfect timing in others as goodness knows both my family and I needed a change of fortune in that horrendous week in May. The weirdest thing is that my pregnancy has been officially dated to 12^th May…. so the day that initially caused such heartache when the test stick read ‘not pregnant’ following the failed round of IVF, has subsequently become a day of joy. Strange how these things work out.

I am now nearly 34 weeks in with approx. 5 – 6 weeks to go… 5 would be better! Starting to get rather large and uncomfortable now. For a ‘year in review’ stats bonus, I currently weigh 1.5 stones heavier than I did at the start of the year! Hopefully most of that is baby and not just excess Xmas pud! Having to really scale back the exercise these past few weeks as if I try to do too much, I just end up exhausted and sofa bound later on in the day, so it’s all about measuring my efforts. This is really strange for someone who is, by nature, always on the go and gets easily bored and fidgety when sat doing nothing. My day usually runs in 30 minute segments, with me trying to rest with my feet up, but getting bored after half an hour, feeling unproductive and lazy, and so getting up and doing something such as laundry, baking, cleaning etc. This results in me wearing myself out again and needing another 30 minute sit down, etc etc, until it’s finally 9pm and I can take myself off to bed! Rock and roll! It’s so weird to not have energy and I really feel for anyone with conditions such as ME or thyroid problems who experience this lethargy on a regular basis. I guess it’s all good prep for being sleep-deprived when little one arrives!

And so to my sporting plans for 2019. In my head, I have lots; on paper, I have none, as I am very mindful that planning things before I have experienced life with a newborn is just asking for trouble! Through my rose-tinted glasses I can visualise a cosy scene of us all rocking up at a local race, with our parents in tow to look after baby, I’ll bust out a post-partum PB fuelled by my oxygenated breast-feeding blood cells and Matt will float around equally effortlessly on the pure euphoria of fatherhood…. There is, of course, every chance that I could be living in cloud cuckoo land here and we may well be too knackered to even contemplate leaving the house when the time comes! I would love to take Baby D. to North Wales to visit my Welsh family in May and maybe race the Slateman whilst there…. but again, the logistics of this may prove too much. We’ll just have to see. I may be blessed with an angelic being that sleeps all day apart from feeds at regular intervals. Equally, Karma may dish up its revenge and serve me a dose of what I put my poor mother through by giving me a screamer who refuses to be put down and is awake 24/7 with no pattern to feeding or sleeping… there is apparently one very good reason why I remained an only child!

February: en route to setting a new female course record at Seaton parkrun, 19:20: the record still stands

February: Finishing the Anglian Water Standard Duathlon in 2nd place overall and qualifying to represent GB at the world champs later in the year

May: After 8 full weeks of no exercise, I thought I could just rock up and race the Exe Valley Triathlon and get away with it... I didn't. Injury ensued.

December: A slightly different physique to usual, or, as my husband quips, 'My wife's let herself go a bit this past year'. 33 weeks pregnant on Christmas Day.

2019? Let's see what you've got in store. Hopefully lots more love, laughter and living life to the full.

Thanks to my supporters in 2018:
Patrick at PDW Sports - best sports massage both sides of the Tamar!
Chris at Tri Coach Kernow
Nigel at Honiton Physio.
N1 Tri Club, Honiton Spinners and Axe Valley Runners - training alone is ok, but training with other like-minded folk is better
My friends, both local and afar, for their much needed and valued support this year
My family, for always being there... family first, fitness second, always!

Being a coach potato

Yes, you read that right, a coach potato. Not a couch potato… although I am rapidly becoming one of those too, so the pun serves two purposes.

Last weekend I became a fully qualified British Triathlon Level 1 coach. I signed up for the coaching course back in the summer as I thought it could be something to get my teeth into whilst I am on my pregnancy reduced training volume. (There is only so much baking a girl can do to fill the 10+ hours that were previously spent swimming, biking and running, and I would hate for my husband to get fat as a result!!)

Why did I decide to do the coaching qualification? Well, several reasons, but chiefly because I was massively inspired by having my cousin-in-law, Chris Dominey of Tri Coach Cornwall, coach me at the back end of last year and into the start of this. I was previously sceptical that I needed a coach, after all, I’m not a pro and so it seemed a little self-indulgent, and hell, I managed to get myself a silver medal in my first international outing in a GB suit on the back of my own simplistic approach, so it can’t have been too off target. But once I took the plunge and committed to his programme, it highlighted so many things that I was previously doing wrong in my training, and my performance improved massively as a result… too bad I then got pregnant and so wasn’t able to see if I could convert that silver to a gold at the World or European duathlon championships, but I had a better reason this time for the DNS than my usual “injured”.

I used to think that all I needed to do was keep my fitness levels up all year round, make sure I swam, biked and ran each week, did a modicum of the dreaded S + C work, and mixed the sessions up with some easy paced stuff and harder interval efforts. I did not know that it is impossible to be “fit” all year round and that, in trying to be, you risk over-training, fatiguing your body and, worse still, succumbing to a plethora of injuries and illnesses, which is basically how I spent most of my time in 2015 (injured), 2016 (ill) and 2017 (both!). A good coach will work with an individual athlete to periodize their training, manage their fatigue levels and make sure there is the right balance between the harder efforts (that get you fit and improve performance) and the easy work (which allows your body to recover and adapt). This was all new to me. At first I resented the rigidity of the regime; being told that this is the specific workout I must do today, when previously I would have taken the weather, my mood, my time availability and others (e.g. availability of riding buddies and sessions offered by my tri and cycling clubs) into account and decided on the day what activity I would do. It was a very different routine to my previous ad hoc ‘wing it and see’ approach, but I can totally see now why having such a structure brings results. I can now see others – tri club mates, training buddies – making the same mistakes I used to make and seeing their same bewilderment at being constantly tired or picking up niggles in the process: hardly surprising when they haven’t had a rest day for 5 weeks! I used to fear rest days; I thought they were a sign of weakness and my secret inner-lazy-self winning out over my more disciplined-self. I now see that they are essential if you want to stay fresh, keep enjoying the sport and see continued long-term improvements.

By taking the coaching qualification, I hope to be able to impart some of this newfound wisdom(!) to others and help them improve their performances. With the level 1 I am limited in what I can do, but I view it as a step on the ladder towards progressing to my level 2 and level 2+, with which I will be able to coach on a one-to-one basis and write bespoke programmes… and do this in a professional capacity, for financial gain. Online coaching is definitely something I could make work around being a stay-at-home-Mum, and so it is a potential career path I am considering for my future, post-partum.

Talking of baby, I am now at 30 weeks and expanding by the day! I am still doing 3 spin classes a week, 2 swims and the occasional parkrun, but running is getting pretty uncomfortable these days as I need to pee every 5 minutes! I have found the last few weeks I have been really tired and had a few unpleasant dizzy / feeling faint episodes (luckily I have managed to sit down before any keeling over actually happened), but then I discovered last week that I am anaemic and I found out yesterday that I have a UTI (both common in pregnancy and both are things I have suffered with before, which makes me more susceptible to them). It would explain the feeling tired, faint and slightly elevated heart rate in spinning! Hopefully now I am on meds for these issues, I will soon start to perk up. No wonder I never experienced that second trimester surge of energy of which others speak – I feel like I’ve been deprived of what my Mum described as “the most energized few months of her life”!

People still continue to pass comment on my activity levels and expanding waist line, as if I am public property. The “oh my goodness, I can’t look you, what are you even doing here in your condition? I think you are going to go into labour at any moment” at spin class, to the “Gosh, you’re only that far on, I thought you must only have a couple of weeks to go, your bump is so big”. It gets a bit tedious and, for someone who has body image issues at the best of times, being told you look massive and are “much bigger than they were at that stage” sends my irrational brain into a spin. But then rational Ellie kicks in and remembers that at my latest growth scan, both me and baby are bang in the mid-range of where we should be at this stage. I just think that everyone has their own opinion and, if you are someone who struggles with exercise you are more likely to think I am bonkers, and if you are someone who is super-fit yourself, you are more likely to appreciate that it’s good for you to keep fit throughout pregnancy and I’m not some weird alien-type being for wanting to do so. Yes, there has been more sofa surfing in the last month or so, but Matt keeps telling me that that is ok and I do not have to be productive for every moment of my waking hours! For now, when my 4-5pm witching hour strikes, I give myself permission to be a newly qualified coach potato!

Below: Me and bump @ 28 weeks, enjoying our last little holiday with baby on the inside to Snowdonia