Pandemics, (non)parkruns and pregnancies... thoughts to round off 2020!

So, apparently it was April that I last penned a blog post. I began that post by musing that it would soon be Christmas.... and indeed, it now is! That was the early days of the pandemic, when we were all basking in the blissful ignorance of what was brewing in the months ahead. Where we knew that the situation wasn't great, but then, SARS, MERS, Ebola and all those other exotic diseases that experts warned could engulf the planet weren't great, but they never lived up to their full threat. April, where we filled our windows with handcrafted rainbows, emerged on our doorsteps every Thursday evening at 8pm in collective appreciation of our NHS and where there was a countrywide sense of unity and "in-this-togetherness". April, where the sun shone endlessly and the long light days were full of picnics and woodland walks and family time and embracing the situation as an opportunity to reset and to reconnect with the important things in life. That was then; this is now. The centre of winter. 

I have never been a huge fan of winter. I wouldn't go so far as to say that I suffer with SAD, but I am really sensitive to the cold and definitely feel less inspired to go out when it's a dull, cold, wet day. I find the winter months a real slog, briefly enlivened by the providentially placed Christmas holiday, but otherwise a chunk of time that I regretfully find myself wishing away each year. If we got the picture-postcard perfect white winters of old, I might think differently; but as climate change seems to deal us a wet and soggy hand these days, there isn't much to get excited about. I have always struggled with winter training too: give me the sun and 20+ degrees to run or cycle in any day! Anyway, this year, this is all an irrelevance as there are no races.... and I am currently 28 weeks pregnant with Baby D. v. 2.0. Being pregnant in a pandemic is in many ways not ideal, but then, it isn't like there has been an a great deal else to do these past few months!! So rather boringly I have followed the madding crowd to become the butt of the "Oh so that's how you kept busy in lockdown" jokes. A Corona kid; a quaranteenie... whatever this generation of offspring will come to be known as, we couldn't be more thrilled about it. Currently planning a home-birth for my due date in early March to avoid the germ-infested hospital if at all possible. 

So, whilst I have of course been missing parkrun and the thrill of a race, knowing that I wouldn't be able to push the pace at the moment anyway definitely assuages my competitive brain! Somehow, being unable to participate in events that are happening and that others are participating in is harder to cope with than there being no events full stop. FOMO and all that! So when 9am on a Saturday comes, I haven't really thought much about that old absent friend, parkrun, as we have just settled into a new routine without it. Parkruns happening and thus forcing me to make some difficult decisions about whether or not the joy of participating outweighs any potential associated risks to both me and baby, would be harder than there being no parkrun... as selfish as that sounds! I am confident that the whole virus situation will be a lot more positive in the Spring, as the vaccine machine hits its stride and the balmy weather helps to suppress the virus as it did over the summer months. See, there's every reason to dislike winter, as even the bugs and nasties are at their most virulent during this time!

And not all pregnancies are created equal. Looking back now, I can reflect that I had a pretty easy time of it during my first pregnancy. I had a bit of anaemia that somewhat stole what should be the energised middle trimester from me, but I managed to stay on top of it and keep up a relatively high exercise volume throughout... I now know why: I didn't have a toddler to look after! I could go to a spin class as I could then come home after, put my feet up on the sofa and rest for the remainder of the day. My 21 month old doesn't go to nursery as I gave up work to be a full-time Mum, which is so important to me... but it is bloody hard work when you are feeling knackered and there is a pandemic rumbling along in the background. What I wouldn't give on a rainy day to be able to take him to a soft play and sit back with a cup of coffee whilst he uses up his energy in a safe, foam-lined environment; or to just mulch around Ikea, fuelled up on bargain meat-balls, using the mock-up apartments as an interactive play setting! These places just aren't safe at the moment though. Sure, they put measures in place to mitigate the risks, but they cannot be considered completely safe as the virus lurks in corners unseen, and so everything becomes a case of weighing up the benefits against the risks. 

Like so many, I miss the coffee shop trips to see friends. I miss the Mum and toddler groups and seeing the fellow Mum friends I made during my first pregnancy. My son doesn't see any other children and I worry for the impact this may have on his future socialisation as he is a very sensitive, quiet little chap. I have started attending the pregnancy yoga class I attended during my first pregnancy... but it's not the same. Wearing masks, being wary of what you might potentially be exposing yourself to being in a room with others for 90 minutes... it just adds stress when the whole purpose of yoga is to alleviate it! It's as safe as it can be... but then, nothing feels completely safe at the moment. For the past couple of weeks, I've done the class on Zoom, at home, but again, the social side of it I love so much just isn't as accessible via a computer screen. Aside from this weekly yoga class, I just do 25 minutes on my Wattbike, 4 - 5 times a week, just to tick over. Swimming is, strangely for a usual aqua-avoider like me, the activity I enjoy most when pregnant, but that is just so complicated at the moment. Booking a slot, driving to the pool, being unable to shower after, finding someone to look after my boy for the 2 hour long process for just a 30 minute swim, it's just not worth it. So I have decided not to stress. I will just tick over with Wattbiking and walking and get through to the spring and then see what shape we're in. Hopefully parkruns will have returned by then, the end of the pandemic may well be within sight, and I will be the Mum of two energy-sapping littl'uns and so any form of meaningful training might be as unrealistic as the hopes of a white Christmas! Either way, roll on 2021!

Thoroughly let myself go during lockdown...! @ 27 weeks pregnant with a curious 21 month old toddler!

The 'C' word

Christmas!! It’s only 267 days away! Be here before we know it…. Or not, as the days seem to be somewhat dragging at the moment in our current state of lockdown.

Of course, ‘c’ also being for ‘corona virus’ or ‘covid-19’. How can I not write a blog post on this topic? It is so all-pervasive and all-consuming at the moment, it demands that I weigh in with my tuppenceworth. But not forgetting this is a triathlon / running / training blog, so I will of course be putting a sporting slant on the topic.

We have all had to make sacrifices since Corona Virus hit our shores back in February. I am sure I wasn’t alone in tuning into the news over a month ago, when the problem remained isolated to China, thinking, ‘Poor things. Thank goodness that isn’t here.’ Naïve ‘NIMBY’ style thinking indeed. It is now here with a bang and every single person is affected by it to some degree. I should highlight that for me, that degree is relatively mild. Yes, it’s a pain in the arse having to choose between a daily run or cycle or being able to take my baby out in his buggy to get him his nap. Yes, I miss seeing my parents and having their support with looking after Sylvester. Yes, I miss my barista-crafted flat white and natter with my friends at a local café. Yes, I miss being able to shop where I want, when I want and without restriction on the items I place in my trolley. Yes, I miss being able to drive somewhere lovely to go buggy running, such as Haldon Forest or Exmouth sea front. Yes, I miss taking Sylvester to his groups and classes and socialising with other Mums. Yes, I miss being able to break up the long days by planning difference activities throughout the week. And yes, a week in and I am already feeling just a tad jaded at repeatedly feigning fresh enthusiasm for reconstructing my 13 month old’s tower of stacking cups for him to promptly go and destroy again for the 22^nd time that morning. But, in truth, these are all minor inconveniences compared to what some people are suffering at the hands of this awful disease.

It goes without saying that the recent restrictions on freedom of movement and social distancing laws play havoc with your training regime. In fact, it is pretty much a triathlete’s nightmare scenario: we already struggle to train three separate disciplines when we have the freedom to do so whenever and wherever we want. The closure of gyms and pools means no swimming, unless you are fortunate enough to live within walking distance of the sea. Only one form of exercise a day means no brick sessions: it’s bike or run, run or bike; not both. I have seen people uploading 7 hour long bike rides on Strava, but to me that is somewhat taking the piss. You are meant to exercise from home; a seven hour ride, whilst starting out from home, could take you as far as 60 miles from your house. I don’t think that is what the government intend people to do with their one daily outing. I personally think that anything over 90 minutes is not in the spirit of what the measures are designed to achieve. It’s about doing just enough to boost your physical and mental health; not about using the unexpected time off work as an opportunity to put in longer training hours. Yes, staying at home is boring, but the motto is ‘stay at home to save lives’.

For me personally, the biggest impact has not been on my freedom to exercise but on my son’s nap routines. He only does short nap cycles (30 mins max), so still ideally needs three naps a day. He is notoriously bad at napping unless in motion. The ‘one outing per day rule’ has therefore hit him hard! If I want to run, that would either mean Sylvester not getting a proper nap or Matt sacrificing his run to take him out. So we have been alternating; one day I run and Matt walks Sylvester, the next day I go on my Wattbike inside and then I can do the buggy walk. However…. We have just ordered a treadmill, which is arriving next week, so soon we will be able to run inside. We both hate treadmills but have to admit that the freedom to run daily, without restriction, is tempting at the moment… and much needed to counteract all the extra baking and boredom snacking that has been happening! At least I have been able to put some much needed weight back on I suppose! Another few months of quarantine and I’ll be back to my pre-pregnancy weight!

Easter tiffin, made for a 'virtual' coffee morning with my tri club buddies on Zoom tomorrow: even in a crisis, coffee and cake catch up must continue!

So my goals have changed. Indeed, I currently have no goals. Last weekend I was due to have a weekend in Cardiff with my Mum and race the Cardiff Bay 10k. This has now been rescheduled until November but I am reluctant to get focused and train for it as part of me thinks that there may be no mass participation events allowed for the remainder of 2020…. The World Duathlon Championships in Amsterdam in September look extremely doubtful. Instead, I am using this time to build some steady base miles and to enjoy my one daily outing as escapism, so I have mainly been running off road: much more pleasant and also much quieter, away from other people. We are lucky that we live in the country and there are so many options for stunning off road running routes within a mile of our house. Another bonus of all this is how clean the air quality is at the moment due to the decreased road and air traffic. To keep the focus and the fitness up, I have been doing Strava fartlek sessions, where I pick a couple of segments to target each run and go for it! A bit of fun and it just reminds my legs that they have another gear aside from the 8m/m plod pace.

Before all of this ‘kicked off’, we had been fitting in a lot of new parkrun events, including Salisbury (where I ran a post-pregnancy parkrun PB, a.k.a. a quadruple 'P' of 19:30) and Bolberry Down (where I set a new female course record). I also managed to squeeze in one race in on 1^st March: the Exmouth Ocean Brave 10k. It was a multi-terrain run that went out along the cliff tops and came back along a 3 mile stretch of sandy beach, into a headwind the whole way. That was tough! Amazingly I managed to finish as first lady and second overall! The prize was a voucher for £30 to spend in Ocean, Exmouth, on any meal and drinks off the menu… which will now obviously have to wait. Hopefully the restrictions of eating out will have lifted in time for our wedding anniversary in July and I can “treat” my husband to our first meal / evening out since our son was born! It’s a shame as when the clocks changed we intended to get back to going to our running club and my tri club once a week. Nevermind, it will make us all the more appreciative of these things once the restrictions are eventually lifted.

Bolberry Down parkrun: a stunning course on the cliff tops in the South Hams

3 mile long beach section into stiff headwind at Exmouth Ocean Brave 10k

Finish line! First lady and second overall.

My son shows off my trophy!

 In the meantime, stay safe friends. Follow the rules – they are there to protect us all, especially the most vulnerable members of our society. Now is not a time to be selfish. We are all inconvenienced; for some it’s a pain in the arse, for others it could lead to financial ruin or the death of loved ones. If you are in the former category, you are lucky. Use exercise to stay sane, but don’t abuse exercise: an hour a day is sufficient to keep fit; don’t get greedy and use this free time to put down base training for Ironmans! We all need to play our part. #staysafe #stayathome #savelives #keepsmiling

It's a Euro no-go for me...

No, I haven’t suddenly lost my mind and decided to pin my flag to the pro-Brexit mast: NEVER! I'm a modern languages graduate for gawd's sake! Rather, I finally made the decision on whether or not to go to the Euro duathlon champs in Spain on 5^th March and it’s a no-go. On 3^rd January I took the plunge and paid the (semi-extortionate) international race licence fee to commit to going, hoping that the manner in which 2020 started – namely with me on my hands and knees, crawling pitifully back and forth between bedroom and bathroom, battling a severe bout of food poisoning incurred on New Year’s Eve after eating Morrisson’s deli-counter chicken – was a blip and I could now look to regain strength, resume training and still have enough time to get semi-fit for the champs…. It wasn’t to be. The bad luck that greeted the new decade continued.

On January 7^th we took our 11 month old son for his long-awaited allergy testing and, in the worse outcome possible, he reacted as positive to every allergen they tested for! My Mum helped look after him whilst at the clinic and later that day she came down with the flu (as in, confirmed genuine flu, despite having had the vaccine), which then turned to bronchitis and double pneumonia some days later. Two days after, sure enough, Sylvester got ill. Really really poorly – like, actually sleeping on me all day, not feeding, temp of 40 degrees, no attempt to engage, whimpering pathetically and just plain out of it. I suspect he had the flu also, caught from my Mum. Then two days later again, it was my turn. So, two weeks into 2020 and my entire family was sick. My Mum ended up needing a hospital stay of over 2 weeks duration to get over hers. It was a huge stress and a massive setback in terms of preparation for the Euros. How could I train looking after a poorly baby who was waking again around 4 times a night, whilst also stressing about my Mum and trying to fit in hospital visits, whilst trying to make sure my Dad was coping, whilst also feeling like utter crap myself? Something had to give! Determined Ellie did not want to give up on the dream but thankfully sensible Ellie (prompted by home truths delivered by my straight-talking GP, who knows me very well and asked me 'what are you trying to prove and to whom by going?', and told me to sit down and write a list of reasons to go versus not to go... it was a very unbalanced list!!) made me realise that what I was contemplating was utter madness. The logistics of getting us all to Spain were proving a nightmare and the thought of my baby having an allergic reaction in a foreign country before he has had all the allergy tests completed (so we still don’t know the full extent of his allergies) seemed like an overwhelming prospect. Priorities change when you become a Mum and suddenly the things that once drove you and seemed important pale into insignificance where family and health are concerned. Dream abandoned. Reality check delivered. Time to regroup and refocus my goals for the World champs in Amsterdam in September instead.

Thankfully February has thus far been better than January. I’ve always hated January; bad stuff just seems to lurk within the deepest recesses of its dim, daylight-deprived hallways. My Mum is slowly on the mend and I had Sylvester’s first birthday to plan as a distraction. Anyone who knows me knows I just love an excuse to bake and rising to the challenge of making Sylvester a dairy-free, egg-free, nut-free birthday cake was just the distraction I needed. Furthermore, sampling the practice runs of said cake making enabled me to put half a stone of weight back on. What with the food poisoning, the flu and all the stresses of the past month I had dipped to nearly 1 ½ stone less than my pre-pregnancy weight and was starting to look super scrawny. My thighs had lost all their cycling muscle and, whilst I haven’t felt remotely inclined to do an FTP retest, I knew that I was struggling to hold my usual numbers on Wattbike sets and so estimated that my FTP had dropped by at least 20W. It’s alright dropping weight, but if you lose power too then the gains are limited.

Birthday baking for my bestest birthday boy and beef-me-back-up baking for Mummy!!

However, a lighter frame has proved handy for running and so this has enabled me to make the decision to focus on that discipline for a while. A potentially dangerous move given how injury prone I have been in the past. But thanks to regular physio check-ins with my awesome physio, Nigel at Honiton Physio, and the strength program he has given me, I have been able to increase my mileage slightly the past few weeks. We’re not talking anything big here, I only hit 20 miles for the first time in over 2 years last week, but I hope that a “hurry slowly” approach will pay longer term dividends. Besides, I am biding my time for the better weather to arrive! I have always hated the cold and the wet.

So I have a few races pencilled in for March and April, alongside a few new parkrun tourist trips with my boys! In fact, the weekend we were meant to be in sunny Spain, we are now off to sunny Salisbury! I don’t know if I will have a “triathlon season” this year: I have only swum 40 lengths since July 2019!! Swimming has never been my favourite of the three disciplines and driving to the pool, changing, swimming, showering, driving back, is just a time consuming, unwelcome hassle. Effectively it’s a 2-hour affair for just 30 poxy minutes of swimming! Going for a brisk 30 minute run or doing 30 minutes of HIIT intervals on the Wattbike gives me a higher fitness return and infinitely more satisfaction. We are also looking at getting a treadmill for our home gym. Neither of us are fans of treadmill running but the idea of being able to hop on for half an hour whilst our little man plays with his toys is a tempting prospect going forwards….

Next up: Exmouth Ocean 10k cliff top and beach race, this coming Sunday. This race was rescheduled from February due to the storms and threat of participants being blown of cliff tops etc. Hopefully it will go ahead this time!

A few recent parkrun pics:

Christmas Day Seaton parkrun

The residual drag from those un-aerodynamic antlers cost me at least 10s!

Seaton pebbles, January 2020

Haldon Forest parkrun: not the easiest course with 20kg of baby and buggy!!

Cool retro style image at Teignmouth parkrun, February 2020

December decision time

It’s December. The end of December. I said by December I would make a decision on whether or not I am going to the European Duathlon Championships in southern Spain in early March. I have still to decide. The deadline for making up my mind is 3rd January. I have a strong feeling that come the 3rd January, I still won’t have decided…

It’s not that I don’t want to go – I wouldn’t have gone to all the effort and expense of dragging myself, my kit, my husband and my baby all the way to Bedford in October to qualify if I never intended to go. It’s just that I kept thinking (hoping?!) that by now, all of Sylvester’s eating and sleeping issues would have resolved and that a trip abroad with bike, buggy and baby when he has just turned one would be feasible. At the moment it doesn’t feel feasible, largely because the aforementioned issues have not resolved!

We are still not much further on with weaning than we were 2 months ago. He can still only handle small amounts of food and reacts to a lot of foods. He is still on the same number of milk feeds (5 - 6 per day) that he’s been on since around 5 months. He still wakes on average 3 times every night. We’ve had a couple of random nights that have given a glimmer of hope where he slept until 3am, but I think that was the double-dose of calpol and calpol plug in when he had a cold and so, in hindsight, he was probably just out of it in a calpol-induced coma!

He’s also had A LOT of illnesses. Since September it feels as though he’s just stumbled from one illness to the next with barely a week’s respite between each bug. We’ve had several trips to out of hour’s doctors, MIUs, A & Es and we’ve had a couple overnight admissions to the children’s ward, all of which have been stressful and exhausting (even when poorly there ain’t a cat in hell’s chance of Sylvester sleeping soundly on a 6 bed children’s ward with the lights on all night and alarms going off every five minutes!). Illness messes up his sleep further and his appetite for solids, meaning more setbacks with weaning…. It’s all so heartbreaking for him as he is otherwise the happiest, most cheerful, contented little boy who just loves life and making new exciting discoveries each day and he has absolutely no patience for being ill! There’s nothing I’d like more than to take him to Spain to watch his Mummy compete and enjoy a family holiday at the same time, but the idea of him getting ill in another country feels like an all-too-likely and overwhelming possibility.

So sadly, I think Spain will likely be a no-go. Shame, as the location, Pumta Umbria, looks lovely. The other factor is that I am not that fit at the moment as I am hardly doing any training. Between Sylvester being ill and thoughtfully sharing each and every germ with me, I have been in a constant fuzzy-headed fugue of tired, snotty grottiness for the past 3 months! I still walk on average about 6 miles a day with him in the buggy to get him to nap, so after this I have limited energy or enthusiasm left for running or cycling. Plus the unlikelihood of me going to Spain has been lingering at the back of my mind and so I have not really committed to any form of structured training in preparation. Furthermore, I bloody hate winter and cycling in the cold wet weather, which I’d have to do if I was serious about giving the Europeans a go. And lastly, I am quite enjoying prioritising being a Mum, and trying to be the best Mum I can be, my most important and valued role. In years to come, I don’t want any regrets that I missed out of key moments of joy in his development because I was out on a 3 hour bike ride, or ploughing up and down a boring pool. All in all, I just think the champs are too soon in March and I would be better off building slowly towards the Worlds in Amsterdam in September instead…. And surely he will be sleeping better by then, at 19 months old?! (Pleeeeeeease let him be sleeping better by then….)

That all said, the benefits derived from breastfeeding continue to amaze me. To say that I only run on average about 10 miles a week, with just the one parkrun as “speed work” and the rest being slow miles with the buggy, I am actually churning out some decent enough times. On Christmas day I managed 19:39 at Seaton parkrun, which is only 19 seconds slower than my Seaton course best, which was run when I was being coached by Chris in my build up to the world duathlon qualifiers in February 2018 and was super fit. Breastfeeding oxygenates the blood so is akin to being on legal EPO! I hardly feel out of breath and am only held back by my leg speed, which will only improve with speed work and track reps, but that is too risky injury wise. So, from a running perspective, I am fit enough to be up the front on the first 5k and get in a decent working pack going onto the bike. With the champs being draft legal, my cycling fitness doesn’t need to be as high as previous, provided I can get on some good wheels and stick with a pack. Yeh, so, basically, one day I think Spain is on, the next, it’s off…. And I have one week left to make the decision and commit…. Ho hum…. Decision time!

Back in the sub-20 min club again at Seaton parkrun. Yippee!

2019: that's a wrap!

“Stay away from the painted red and white hash sections unless you want to kill yourself”. The parting words from the pre-race briefing at the Bedford Sprint Duathlon did not fill me with joy. This was a qualifying race for the European duathlon championships which will take place in Punta Umbria in southern Spain in early March 2020. Having qualified for the world champs at Darley Moor 3 weeks previously, I wasn’t as fired up for this race, particularly since my almost 8 month old had been ill on and off ever since. I had also been ill - my kind and thoughtful son likes to share everything with his Mummy! - so on the back of this and the resulting worse sleep than our already low benchmark, I went into the event feeling physically and emotionally drained. When I pitched up at the autodrome circuit on race morning and it was pouring with rain and blowing an absolute hooley, my main motivation for racing was not to place well but to get it done with as fast as possible so I could minimise the time Sylvester (and Matt!) had to spend out in the elements! Every race I have done with Sylvester in tow it has rained, which brings added challenges when the event is staged on an exposed motor racing circuit where the only shelter was the gloomy pit garages and the filthy portaloos!

Something has shifted in my focus since Sylvester turned 6 months. Up until then, it was as if I acknowledged that I was now a Mum, but the ramification of that life-changing status hadn’t yet really hit me, but around 6 months it did: with a sledgehammer! I suddenly felt nervous when riding out on the roads on my bike. Every car I heard approaching from behind I would find myself getting super twitchy and thinking, ‘Please give me room, please don’t come too close’. Whereas up until now, a lovely ride in the sun around the Devon countryside was my means of switching off and having some ‘me’ time, now it was putting me on edge and I found myself thinking, ‘What are you doing? You have a little baby at home who is completely dependent on you. What if you seriously injure yourself?’. It doesn’t help that since I last rode, before finding out I was pregnant, there has been a marked deterioration in the attitudes and behaviours of motorists towards cyclists. I get it, there are a lot of cyclists on the roads now, and yes, if they are in a large group and don’t pull over and hold you up for miles then it does get annoying, but when I ride solo I always tuck in at the soonest opportunity. Sadly this is never soon enough for some drivers who don’t want to adjust their speed for even a nano-second and would rather put you in a hedge or under their wheels than add 5 seconds onto their journey time. It’s a sad state of affairs and another blog post in itself, but I can’t control their behaviour and as long as I continue to ride on the roads, I am guaranteed to keep encountering these ‘near misses’, and, who knows, maybe one day an actual hit. It’s not worth the risk… so I have bought a Watt Bike! Had my eye on one of these beauties for a couple of years after using one at the local gym to improve my base power when coached by Chris of Tri Coach Cornwall before I got pregnant. So my plan for the time being is to do all of my bike training on this and at the velopark and only ride on the roads when absolutely necessary, chiefly for races.

Luckily the two qualifying races I’ve done have both been closed roads at autodrome circuits. This latest one being my first experience of draft legal racing (both the worlds and Euro champs will also be draft legal). I was quite excited by that possibility but wasn’t sure how it would pan out: would I have a decent group to work with? Would someone take the lead in controlling the group or would that person have to be me? I decided pre-race that, if necessary, I would take control and if the other riders weren’t taking their turn at the front, I would be prepared to either ride away from them (if able) or drop my pace and force them to come through. I didn’t want to do all the graft and tow people round for them to then drop me on the second run, as my run still isn’t back to full pace yet so I can’t rely on it to the extent I could pre-baby.

The gun went and we all set off as one huge group: men and women of all age groups. It was hard to see where I was in relation to the other females, but I knew I was quite far back generally as so many people were in front of me after the first mile. I set off with the mindset of ‘you can get top four in your age group and qualify comfortably without burying yourself, so just try to enjoy it’. How you could enjoy running into a monster headwind, wading through ankle deep puddles and being pelted full on in the face with rain, I wasn’t too sure, but either way, I wasn’t in the mood to push hard from the gun so I settled into a comfortable rhythm. I was surprised after the first mile to see my watch bleep at 6:20: it felt slower. Hmm, if 6:20 feels comfy, that augurs well. Next mile: 6:20… I am a metronome when it comes to pacing! I was slowly starting to reel in ladies who had started too fast. Still no idea as I entered T1 as to where I was placed, but just get on the bike and see what happens. The thing with duathlon is you can never predict how the race will pan out. Sometimes the faster runners do not make great cyclists: a lanky running physique often lacks the strength and power needed to go hard on the bike. Similarly, chunky cycling thighs don’t always make for a fast run. I like to think I sit somewhere in the middle: not the fastest at either, but pretty solid across both disciplines. I soon began to catch some of these faster runners on the bike and realised that there was absolutely no point trying to work with them as their bike was far too weak and I would be better going the 20kms alone than reducing my efforts and pace just for the sake of sitting in a pack. With the sprint distance, there isn’t much point trying to save your legs for the final run as the final run only amounts to around 10 – 11 minutes of effort anyway.

After a while I caught a girl who was the fastest on the first run (19:17 to my 19:48) and a fairly decent cyclist. I didn’t know at the time but I had now overtaken all the other ladies and so the two of us where sitting as first and second overall in the race. I would pull away on the straight sections, but she handled the corners better than me (I was being super cautious in the wet and windy conditions) and get back on my wheel again. So I suggested that we work together… in hindsight this proved to be a tactical error as I was essentially helping the fastest runner in the field to enter T2 alongside me, at which point I would duly get ditched… but I hadn’t calculated this at the time. My first experience of draft legal racing was very much a steep learning curve as far as racing tactics are concerned! At this point I had no idea where I was positioned; hell, I had no idea where the bike laps started and finished and how many laps I had completed: I just charged out of transition on a mission and didn’t stop to take notice of these minor details!!

Towards the end of the fourth and final bike lap, I started to pull away from the girl I’d been working with, but was soon caught by another female who then pulled away from me: a slower runner, but faster cyclist. I was therefore still (unknowingly) sitting in second spot overall. The wind was really picking up by this point and some of the tight corners were getting pretty hairy: one had the sobering sight of an ambulance on it and a battered bike lying on the ground next to it. I took the last corner fairly steadily but got caught coming off it by a strong crosswind and before I could correct my line I found myself heading onto the infamous white and red hash paint that we had been warned to avoid. Shit. Don’t brake, don’t turn the wheel. Keep straight, sort it out after. Unfortunately the ‘after’ was a concrete drainage ditch: a better surface in terms of grip, but with sloping sides that made it hard to correct your position and get back on track. Just about managing to avoid ‘phase three’ of the track departure process (chiefly: hashed paint – draining ditch – long grass) I managed to safely turn the bike and get back onto the track. Still upright. Disaster averted. Phew. Note to self: need to work on my bike handling skills in crosswinds at the velopark…

T2 was a sloppy affair, with my run shoes now being sodden it took a lot of faffing to get them on. Finally underway on the run, the first half of which being into a strong headwind, I could see I was slowly gaining on the girl who had overtaken me on the bike. She was about 400m ahead at the start of the run… over 2.5k I wasn’t sure if I’d have enough time to reel her in. I was also mindful that the girl I had worked with for much of the bike, but from whom I had pulled away on the final lap, was also closing on me. Race on! I held my own into the headwind as I could use my strength, but as soon as we turned, the athlete behind me was able to use her superior cadence and pace and reel me in. In the end, after 5k – 20k – 2.5k of competing, it came down to a sprint finish, with the three of us all finishing within 7 seconds of each other. I couldn’t quite catch first, I ran out of room, but I did get caught just 10 meters from the finish line, and so ended up as the third finisher. Disappointing that I couldn’t have found a bit more pace in that final run, but I can’t expect miracles when my run training currently consists of three 3-4 mile buggy jogs at 9m/m and one parkrun a week! Had you said before the race that I would win my category, make the overall ladies’ podium, and be only 7 seconds shy of the outright win, I would have laughed you out of town. So, in conclusion, I think I did ok.

This photo shows how close it was for the top three: all three of us in the finish funnel at the same time, just 7 seconds separating us.

Out-sprinted for second place: my fast twitch muscles twitch even slower than they did pre-baby!

Third lady overall, 1st in age cat = auto qualification for the 2020 Euro champs

So, now for some much needed rest, for all of us. As I type this, we are just back home after yet another hospital admission for Sylvester. This has meant yet more disrupted sleep, considerable angst and more illness for the both of us. I have yet to decide whether or not I will take up my place at the European champs. They are at the beginning of March and Sylvester will have only just turned one, and right now, with all his sleep and health issues, I just cannot imagine the stress of going abroad with him and all his kit and caboodle, plus all the kit needed for racing. As my husband said last time, maybe bikes and babies don’t mix…. So far we have been away with him five times and three out of those five have resulted in him getting ill and ending up in hospital. I could not cope with this stress in another country. I just couldn’t, and it wouldn’t be fair on him. Plus the main point of doing these events is that they are fun and also enjoyable for my family. If they become a chore, then what's the point? But 5 months is a long time in the life of a baby, and maybe he will turn a corner with his reflux and his allergies by then. We can decide later. In the meantime, we all need to get well again, stay at home lots, maybe just stick to some local parkruns and enjoy ourselves as a family without the stress of racing. It's felt like a long season but in reality it's just been a lot of events compacted into a short space of time: Darley Moor worlds qualifier, Honiton Sprint Triathlon (in which I placed 4th lady) and Bedford Sprint Euros qualifier, all within three weeks of each other. It's just been unfortunate that for most of those three weeks, Sylvester has been ill... and when he gets ill, so do I shortly after! Also, travelling to events with a baby is infinitely harder work than it was as just a couple. Gone are the pre-race long hot baths and chill out sessions; the focus now is 99% on him with my race preparations shoe-horned into the remaining 1% of the time. Much is the same for the post-race recovery process. So I now need some exercise-free weeks to recharge the body and the mojo. There is still plenty of pram pushing to keep my legs ticking over in the meantime and my new toy (Watt Bike Atom) is sat there waiting for me when I feel ready to resume training!

Ready to roll at Honiton Triathlon!

In the prizes at Honiton: I've done it this local race three times and placed 2nd, 2nd and 4th... if I could shake off the coughs and colds and learn to swim, I might one day win it!

Bikes and babies do not mix?

Bikes and babies do not mix. Such was the conclusion my husband arrived at Thursday morning when an almighty ‘bang’ sounded as he was attaching the bike rack to our family estate car, breaking the gas strut in the boot in the process which forced its way through the gap between boot and car and warped the metal out of place whilst doing so. We were just putting the final item (namely, the bike) onto the car ready to depart for the trip north to Derbyshire to take part in the ITU World Duathlon Championships qualifying race, to be held on the Sunday at Darley Moor Motor Racing Circuit. Now the boot was broken, in fact, wouldn’t even shut because it had a great hunking wad of metal protruding out of it, and we were faced with the only other possibility which was to transfer everything into my car. Unfortunately, my car is half the size and so that meant a strict ‘downsizing’ of kit had to follow. Size limitations have previously deterred us from taking my car away to a race weekend, yet here we now were attempting to do so with the added kit and kaboodle that a baby brings to the party (he might be small but the amount of equipment he needs is vast)! The broken car was left unlocked on the drive with the boot open (luckily it was a sunny day!) with a message on my FIL’s answerphone to kindly come and sort it out for us! It wasn’t a propitious start to the weekend but one that set the tone of things to come….

Finally underway with paired down kit (I mean, of course we can all wear the same clothes we were travelling in for 4 days, no probs; and why would Sylvester need toys when we he’s just an enamoured by household objects and I’m sure the cottage would have a wooden spoon and a saucepan he could merrily bash away at). We were on the road!

The cottage we rented was in a tiny hamlet called Onecote, in a valley in the middle of the Peak District National Park. It had no mobile phone signal. It also gave me bad vibes the minute I set foot in it. Not bad vibes as in spooky, because I don’t believe in any of that crap, but bad vibes as in it was cold (colder than outside!), dark and unwelcoming. I didn’t like it. Matt said I was being stupid but it just gave me the heebie-jeebies.

The next minor calamity came when we unpacked the car and I decided to take the bike out for a short spin to make sure it had arrived in one piece (my steed has previously always enjoyed luxury travel within the warm, plush interior of the car; Sylvester’s arrival has ousted her to face the elements on the exterior and her pretentious carbon-fibre-self was none too happy about it….) I got my track pump out to inflate the tyres to discover that the presta valve attachment had failed to make it as far as Derbyshire… No test ride for me that afternoon then but a trip to the nearest town (Leek) to source a new pump. Walking around the town, the buggy got it’s fifth puncture in 2 weeks… I deemed the odds of me having a mechanical issue during the race to have just intensified based on this continuing streak of bad luck. Two pump purchases later (yes, two… don’t ask!) and both bike and buggy were reinflated. Rekkie ride done – a blustery affair on the ridge up above the valley we were staying – on the Friday and Congleton parkrun done on the Saturday at full half-pace with Sylvester in the running buggy (plus a sixth buggy puncture on the cool down lap!) and my legs felt good to go for the next day. A good night’s sleep was all I now needed….

Reading to rock and roll at Congleton parkrun.

Yeah, right. Like that was going to happen. Now, Sylvester’s sleep is far from the greatest – indeed, it’s a whole other blog post in itself – but we’ll just leave it as that for today. But I was now used to 3, 4, 5 wake ups each night and had been surviving and training just fine on that. Too bad then that the minor snivel he had when we came away had now turned into a full blown chesty cough and streaming cold. At 7pm when we tried to get him down he was inconsolable and running a high temperature. We took him to the MIU in Leek before it shut at 8pm to get it checked. Ok, just a cold said the nurse. Lots of calpol (a baby’s equivalent to crack; they can’t get enough of its sweet strawberry goodness!), lots of cuddles, lots of fluids. 3 breastfeeds, a life time of cuddles, as many lullabys as I could think of and ten Hail Marys later and he was still screaming like a banshee and refusing to go down in the crib and his temp was still high, despite the calpol. Instinct told me that this was more than a cold. Too bad we had no mobile phone signal and were stuck in the middle of bloody nowhere with nothing more than calpol and a thermometer to deal with the escalating crisis. By 3am, when he was still screaming, none of us had slept and with me now beside myself with worry, we all got in the car and drove to Stoke Hospital. We eventually got out at 7:30am with a diagnosis of a severe ear infection in both ears, some antibiotics and painkillers… (I think they were meant for Sylvester, but in my sleep deprived state they looked quite appealing to me too at this point…)

Sat in a cramped, overcrowded paediatric A&E waiting room with a screaming, poorly baby at 4am, it was looking highly doubtful that I would be racing later that morning. Still sat there at 5am, there was no way I would be racing. When we finally got out we both decided that we wanted to head home that day so we could get our boy back home to his familiar environment that night. We could either go back to the cottage, pack and drive straight home, or go back to the cottage, pack and just about make the start of the race – which would take me about an hour to complete – then head home after and try to salvage something from an otherwise naff weekend. I hadn’t slept, I hadn’t had the breakfast of free-range eggs from the village farm on fresh sourdough toast that I had planned to have to set me up for the later race start time… indeed, I hadn’t had breakfast at all. But I had energy bars, I had coffee, I had a bucket load of adrenaline coursing through me and a can-do attitude, so why the hell not give it a go? I like a challenge…

Before anyone berates me for putting my racing ambitions over my baby’s health, that was absolutely not the case. What Sylvester needed at this point was sleep, and as ear infections hurt more when a baby lies down (hence the screaming each time I tired to put him in the cot), the best place for him to sleep was either in his buggy, being pushed around by Matt whilst I raced, or in the car seat driving home, so that’s what we did.

So, as this has historically been a blog about my sporting exploits, I guess the actual race finally deserves a bit of coverage. It was the last event of three offering a qualification opportunity for a place on the GB team for the 2020 world duathlon championships (the other two races were in spring, when I had just given birth, so basically, this was my only chance). I knew that I am not fully back to pre-pregnancy fitness. The bike isn’t far off, but the run is still about a minute down over 5k on where I would usually be at a qualifying event. (I have only just broken 20 mins again, where I would normally be doing around 19 for the first run of a duathlon). The bike course, however, was not ideal for me, whether fit or not. I am a climber with a high power to weight ratio, and I love to get out the saddle and punch my way up inclines; this course was mildly undulating at best, on multiple laps of a motor racing circuit, so it suited the stronger, more powerful girls on TT bikes. Weirdly, this qualifier was draft-illegal, even though the champs will be draft-legal… not sure of the logic in that. I decided not to race my TT bike as a) I haven’t ridden it since February 2018, and b) I won’t be able to race it at the actual championships (not allowed TT bikes or aero-bars in draft legal racing), so I didn’t see the point in racing it here.

The start line - an all ladies wave made for a more exciting race.

There were a few familiar names and faces on the start list. One girl who I have had some great battles with at three previous races was there. Pre-baby, we were very evenly matched. Here at Darley, she went on to both win our age category (F35-39) and win the ladies race outright… I finished three minutes behind as 10^th lady overall and 2^nd to her in our age group. My run was one minute slower (I did a 19:39, so a post-pregnancy 5k best on no sleep – that’s at least encouraging!) and a 32:30 split for the 20k bike. That gives me a rough idea of where I am at fitness wise: a minute to find on the run, the bike wasn’t my ideal course, so hard to judge that one, but my time was a minute down on the faster ladies, and my second run was well up there, so it’s coming together. Given the previous night’s stresses and its inevitable toll on my body, and being 7 months post-partum, I can only be pleased with a top 10 performance. Got a whole year now to get fit! One big positive, my second run off the bike was the exact same pace (6:26m/m) as my first run on “fresh” legs, and this despite having done absolutely no brick sessions. I know I am a bit of a metronome when I run and this confirms it. I know, as an athlete and as a coach, that brick sessions should be the bread and butter of a duathlete’s race build phase, but if I don’t have the time to do them given my hectic Mummy schedule, I’m not going to worry.

The 20k bike course was 8 laps of a motor racing circuit. Mainly flat, a couple of drag, didn't really suit me but a 32:30 (21mph av) split wasn't too shabby.

Finish line feels: happy to get the job done and get back to my poorly boy and get him home!

Next up? Possibly the local Honiton Triathlon on October 5^th (it got deferred from July after gypsies invaded the transition area the night before the race!), but the next big goal is Bedford Sprint Duathlon on October 13^th, which is the qualifier for the 2020 European Champs. So if the weather looks at all grim on the 5^th, I won’t be risking racing Honiton. Let’s just hope that our trip to Bedford is less eventful. Matt has already calculated the most direct route to Bedford Hospital from our hotel, as two out of the four times we have been away with Sylvester, he has ended up in hospital! Thanks as always to Matt, super-supporter, husband and Dad extraordinaire. Luckily little S. slept through the entire race and so Matt was able to park up him up track side, shout encouragement at me, and enjoy a well-deserved bacon butty from the catering van!

Oh, forgot the important bit - needed top 4 in age group to secure automatic qualification for the world champs and comfortably did that with 2nd, so Amsterdam 2020 here we come!!

With my two babies. Bikes and babies mix very well in my opinion. Husband: you're wrong!

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!