Tuesday 26 August 2014

The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself

 It has always been pretty evident that running is my weakest discipline of the three within triathlon. I am not built to be a runner, always get injuries and classically blame my technique (something after talking to my coach I refuse to do now). I however will still not call myself  a runner despite completing numerous events and 6 marathons. I refer to myself as a plodder. I have never really had a 'race pace' (a term many athletes use) - I just run at a pace at which I can run, simple as. As for my heart rate well that is just high regardless of what 'pace' I am doing. However, I think I am finally starting to 'get' this running lark and starting to be able to understand race pace and how to tactfully use it depending in the distance.  I may even, dare I say it, be enjoying running, especially the improvements I am seeing.

Pre Thames 10k with my sister
 These improvements started when I did the Thames 10k on the 30th July. It is pretty evident I have done hundreds of events but even though I have done many Olympic distance triathlons which finish with a 10k run I had never done a stand alone 10k run event. A first for everything! I had however done many 10k's in training. Even 6 months ago I would be lucky to go under the hour for a 10k - in fact I think all of my 10k's to this date had all been around 59minutes. I had high expectations however, whilst being realistic. I wanted a sub 55 minute 10k - not amazing to some but a big feat for me to achieve. I was doing this event with my sister and friend Lee. We started at 7pm in an idyllic field in Hampshire on a perfect summers evening. I knew not to go off too fast - 10k is that funny distance where it's not short enough to sprint but long enough to hurt. I did however push it a little to begin with to get some space, getting some was easier said than done. However with my space found and after 2km's of pushing 4m30 per kilometre I knew to slow the pace down. The course was off road and the long grass and uneven ground made it really really tough, I knew this was going to play a part on my overall time. I used people as markers and enjoyed the run - keeping my pace consistent and not letting it go beyond 5m30 per km. I had a bit around 6km where I felt very sick - on the verge of puking, however I pushed on through. With 1km to go I pushed the pace again and overtook some of the people who started to falter or who didn't have anything left in the bank (the upside of being an endurance athlete is you normally have something more to give than most). I sprinted to the finish in 53m48secs. It was an official PB as this was my first 10k event and was a huge wow moment for me. This truly showed how far I had come - maybe I even looked like a runner? 10k is not my distance at all even if I do hope that when I am done with Ironman, if that ever happens, I plan to focus on Olympic distance triathlons. I do hope with my improvements in running to get a 50 minute 10k in the near future.

Ready to race
 My second recorded PB was for a 5k. I again have never done a 5km race. This idea came about when visiting Sam, my partner in crime from Lanzarote, at her house in Brighton on the 8th August. This weekend was the start of my channel swim window but as my previous blog explains I didn't get the call. On the Friday night when I heard the news I wasn't going to Dover in the morning a night of drinking commenced. Somehow we were both wide awake feeling fresh at 7.45am so we decided to go and do Bognor's Park run at 9am.
Action shot
 I don't know why I had the intention of doing 25 minutes but it was a goal I wanted to achieve one day. I had never trained for a 5km but read somewhere, I believe on Smoker2Ironman's blog that he read on Runners World when you hit 25 minutes for a 5km that makes you a runner. I actually don't believe this, but it stuck in my memory and I did spend a few sessions after reading it on the treadmill trying to achieve it to no avail - it was too hard for me and I moved on. Why I chose this morning to do it I don't know, I didn't even know I would be able to especially after a skinful of wine and vodka and minimal sleep! The gun went off and off we went. I got into 4m44 km's and forced myself to not go above 5m10 even when I had my inevitable sick patch around 3km. I ran to the finish in a time of 24m05. Again, wow! We went back feeling great, Sam came in 25 seconds after me and clocked a PB too. We ended up walking another 10km around Brighton being tourists (yes Sam was a geek and wore her Garmin all day - it all counts!). We had a photo at every cut out along the pier, had a dress up session at FlashBack photography, ate a picnic on the pier and then went out afterwards (in matching T-shirts that got SO much attention). It was a great weekend seeing a friend for life.


PB smiles
Dress up
Like a Boss!
 The next improvement was this weekend whereby I recorded another 5km PB at Andover's Park run with my 2 best friends. However, the biggest improvement of this weekend was the Challenge Aquathlon I competed in on the Sunday. This was organised by my old Tri club in the Chilterns so knew many of the competitors and had competed in it the year before. It would be a great way to get me competing in a multi-sport event pre Ironman Wales and to get a real indication of my progress within a year. Thankfully it was an afternoon start, as after a party on the Saturday I would've not been able to compete. My sister came with me to support and we had a Wagamama before arriving late (as per) to the event with literally 15 minutes before the start. The event was an 800m swim (31 lengths in the open water pool) and then a 10k hilly off road run. I began the swim feeling strong. The plan was to just push it as much as I could for the whole 31 lengths - I would worry about the run when I got out. I felt sick after 10 lengths but didn't slow down because I was using Dave in the next lane to me, who always swam in the faster lane in training, as my pace maker. We were swimming at an identical pace and even though it was a push to keep it up I was being a determined bitch not to lose him. I came out seconds in front in a time of 14m24. Trainers on in quick speed and I was the first out of us on the run.

Too happy?
The run was a 4 lap challenging course through the woods. I wanted a 55 minute run and considering the terrain and course that was me being slightly optimistic. Dave came past me after 3 minutes but I gave it my best shot - he was a natural runner. I ran past a woman as I ran out of the swim but she overtook me going uphill shortly after. My aim from then on was to keep her in my sights - I had 3 laps to sort it out and get back past her. Within 2 laps I had done this and I kept ahead after that - I used the thought of her chasing me as my reasons to keep pushing harder. This was a great course to play Wales tactics - tough uphill, rewarding down to make up the time lost climbing and then a flat to enjoy and get the pace going again. I did however manage to fall over three times during the run. The third time really worried me as I went completely over on my ankle - the pain making me scream out loud, but the stubborness in me meant I could not stop - I was being chased afterall! I finished the run in 55m39 - I was ecstatic. My overall time was 1h10. My elation was finished with me coming third woman - a mere 3 minutes behind the winner! I travelled home with my sister and grabbed a bottle of Prosecco on the way - any excuse!

Any excuse to celebrate - I am wearing compression so it's recovery right?

One to start the collection hopefully
 I then analysed my time from last year. Swim time 16m11 compared to 14m24 this year and a shocking 1h06 compared to 55m39 this year. That is an overall improvement of nearly 13 minutes within a year which is a huge margin considering the small distance of the disciplines. Being able to assess myself like this is great  and makes all my sacrifices worth it. It also reminds me of a great quote "Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end it's only with yourself". I have bettered my times in a year, I wasn't trying to beat anyone else - it was my own private venture. I have to admit a little pride in this result. I am doing what I do for Rosie but these results make me realise I have not lost my passion to better myself. This improvement is the best bit of motivation I could've received with a mere 3 weeks to the big one - Ironman Wales.



 So the countdown has begun - it is now under 3 weeks and a mere 20 days until Ironman Wales. I am being asked am I ready and I feel as ready as I ever will be. I am also going to Lanzarote on Thursday for 10 days. This means I can get some last minute motivational bike miles under my belt, sort some contacts out for my move and taper in the sun. I actually plan to come back with a holiday makers tan as opposed to the cyclist lines I normally get! The other goal is to keep me occupied all the way through to the big day. This is a mental necessity for me. It is fast approaching the year anniversary of Rosie's death, it is scary, horrible and devastating to think I have not heard her voice for that long. I will be back from Lanzarote the day before the date but hope the break helps me get in a good place. So I will update when I return to the UK and in the week of Ironman Wales with some real pre race thoughts. Adios! 

Sunday 17 August 2014

Together we made it - the day I became a Channel Swimmer

 I hadn't intended to be writing this blog today - I had planned my next blog to be about my improvements in running. However, rather dramatically late on Friday evening I got the call saying I was swimming The English Channel in the morning. I feel I need to write the account of this while it is fresh in my memory for the benefit of those reading and myself. I am yet to come to terms with what I have just achieved and haven't been able to pinpoint my emotions towards it, so as writing helps me get my feelings out I hope this will show the raw emotion from the day and the aftermath.

 We had been told throughout the week that the likelihood of us swimming in the week of our window was decreasing as the days went on. I was on call from Saturday 9th August like a coiled spring. Hurricane Bertha made her appearance on Saturday morning and took her time to do her worst - leaving force 8 winds and waves 1-3 metres high by Wednesday. Our window was being extended and were told on Thursday evening we were not going until the earliest Monday, most likely Tuesday. I resigned myself to this fact, as did the rest of the team, and got myself covered (or just about) at work. On the Thursday I therefore got my training done early in the day so I could go out with my mum to drop my Dad off for dinner with a colleague and see my nan. Due to time constraints mum and I hadn't planned on eating but realised after leaving my nan's house we could grab something just before picking my Dad up. In hindsight it's lucky we did!
Me and mum out on the town!
We had a 'Wagamama' in Reading and then picked up my Dad and his friend (he said he didn't want me to say he was drunk so I will say he was sufficiently merry). I was looking forward to getting back as had work at 6am. However, at 10.10pm my heart started racing. I read on our channel swim Facebook group that the captain of the boat had considered it safe enough for us to swim in the morning. So it was all systems go - I had to be in Dover at 9.30am. I also realised I had no food to take with me as I hadn't planned to be going so we then had to do a detour to a 24 hour Tesco. My heart was racing and my chest hurt. I was actually having to make myself deep breathe to try and calm myself down. The trip to Tesco was eventful to say the least. Me, my mum and my dad were running around Newbury's Tesco at 11.30pm grabbing all sorts of confectionery. Cakes, chocolate, sweets, biscuits, malt loaf, you name it I had it. I did decide however to not get any savoury goodies, my mum joking I wouldn't want any crisps as I would've had enough salt from the sea. Ironically all I fancied on the boat was crisps and savoury food!

 We got back home at just gone midnight. I had to get to sleep as I had to be up at 4am. I was buzzing. I was worried I had forgotten something and things kept going round and round my head as I lay in bed. I also HAD to paint my nails pink in preparation - call me vain! I didn't get to sleep until gone 1am and then my alarm woke me again at 4am. I showered quickly, more to wake me up than anything else - I was aware I would be swimming in shit in a few hours. I said my goodbyes to my parents and after a quick flap after realising I had no diesel in my car which meant I returned to fill it up at home, I was on my way. I met Ann, a member of the team at her house. It was decided it would be better for me to get a lift rather than travel alone for 3 hours to Dover and then have to do the journey alone afterwards. We picked up Julia, another member, had some obligatory photos and then we really were on our way to Dover. I was feeling ridiculously nervous and didn't have much to add to any conversation.


 We were in Dover at 8.45am. We grabbed coffee and some final provisions and met the rest of the team by the marina. I seemed to be the only one who felt nervous. Phil for example greeted me by skipping towards me. I know I have done some testing challenges in my years, Ironman most notably, however I really was facing so many of my fears during this one. I hate being cold and was blackmailed into doing it non wetsuit, sea creatures creep me out (most notably jellyfish and whales) and I have to shamefully admit I am petrified of the dark. At 23 I still sleep with a light on. I always had one when I was a child and the comfort of having a light has stuck with me. Therefore the night swim I would inevitably have to do was looming over me as my biggest fear. Furthermore, I was starting the pack off so my nerves were to be expected. We had some compulsory pictures including a selfie and then loaded our boat; Gallivant.

Team selfie
Loading the boat

Excitement - Dave, Rob and I

Me, Gill and Gallivant
 I updated my final thoughts on social media and then we were off. As we left the marina to get to Shakespeare beach where we would start, I began to get ready. I then had 10 minutes to reflect.
In deep reflection
I sat on the front of the boat with the team. By this point I was feeling nervous, apprehensive and excited, these mixture of emotions did make me emotional. I am not going to lie a few tears were shed as I sat thinking of Rose. This challenge always was for me and was a side mission from my Ironman dream to get to Kona in Rosie's memory but I couldn't help pray she was looking over me. I had a feeling if she was she would be pointing down saying that's my crazy Auntie - this thought made me smile. Before I knew it I was being told to get in the water. My Dryrobe came off and I was ready. I jumped in and swam to shore being greeted almost instantly with jellyfish (a few squeals were heard). Once at the beach I had to put my hands in the air to signify I was ready to start. The boats' horn then sounded and that was the beginning of our Channel Swim. A guy on the beach wished me good luck and then I ran back in the water and dived in, adrenaline finally taking hold. I can't remember much of that swim apart from when the water suddenly shifted about 30 minutes in from a clearish blue to a murky brown. This to me signaled I was heading into unknown territory - I said to myself as Dorothy would, "We are not in Kansas anymore".

Starting from Shakespeare beach
During - good bye Dover
First leg over
The changeover was relatively easy, Ann merely jumped in behind me and then I had to climb out via the steps. I did have to spider crawl over the boat however which I can't imagine was a good look when only wearing a swimming costume.
The spider crawl
 The water wasn't as cold as I was expecting and apart from a sea beard (algae that stuck to your face) I was told I looked good. My Garmin also told me I had swum 5km in the hour (for those who don't know swimming that's pretty fast - although these time splits were consistent during each of my swims I think there were some GPS issues). The Dryrobe my mum had recently bought me for the event was a great piece of kit. It warmed me up quickly and meant I avoided flashing the rest of my team anymore than I already had done throughout training. After changing I grabbed a cup of tea and some custard creams and sat on the front deck talking - this wasn't that bad. I had 5 hours until I had to swim again...

 About 3 hours in I began to feel ill, as did some others. I thought I was going to be the first victim to Gallivant however after a lie down I managed to feel a bit better. The first victim however was Dave. He was sick 10 minutes before he was due to swim. He then proceeded to be sick throughout his swim. During his swim Ann was also sick. This was 6 hours in and the calmer seas of Dover were behind us. The sea was pretty damn rough. We were sliding all over the boat and it was a struggle to swim in. We asked the driver when he came round to check on us how we were doing and he said that we were currently looking at a 22 hour crossing. This news came hard. We knew it wasn't going to be an easy crossing and that Dave's condition meant we couldn't make huge gains but that was a blow. Gill assured us that they were just scaremongering to try and push us on. Scaremongering or not I was ready to give the channel some. It was my turn to swim again after Dave's efforts - hats off to him for swimming through his sickness. As I waited to jump in I said to Gill "See you on the other side" and put my hand over the rose tattoo on my thigh to signify I have Rosie with me.

Jumping in for my second swim
My rose tattoo to signify Rosie is always with me
The sea was considerably rougher to swim in than before. At one point I saw the bottom of the boat as a wave pushed it sideways. I even decided to swim a little further away from the boat as I was worried one big wave would whack me into the side of it. I said to myself, "This is the closest I ever want to get to 'The Perfect Storm'!". Regardless of all of this I pushed on hard - I felt in control and comfortable. I got stung a few times by jellyfish and saw many. At one point I looked down and saw 5 candy floss looking creatures bobbing maybe 3 metres below me and then looked to my left and saw 2 transparent orange and pink ones. These were the ones that then stung me on my wrist. My Garmin then began rubbing on my latest war wound making for an unpleasant experience but as Gill said before we started "Whatever happens just keep swimming" so I did. My hour went pretty quick and I actually enjoyed it although was ready to get out. When I did get out I got lots of congratulations about it being a brilliant swim. The driver said I caught us up and Phil said he was assessing our progress by how close we were to the boats in front also doing crossings and I reeled them in. This made me feel good. After changing I chatted a bit, got some food down my neck and then decided to go downstairs to try and get some sleep. Although by then it was still 4 hours until I would swim again the third leg was hanging over me as the most daunting. It would be at 11.30pm meaning it would be in complete darkness.

 I didn't get much sleep down there. My feet were not getting warm again and took a full 3 hours in my sleeping bag for them to have any sort of sensation again. I watched my team mates swim from the window below deck and sent a few messages to my mum when I got signal. I gave up on sleep after a while and went back on deck before the hour countdown began. I was so nervous. I knew this leg would be my worst. I got kitted up and ready and sat on the front of the deck staring at the amass of stars that were above me. I had never seen so many and if you stared hard and long enough more seemed to appear. It was magical. However scared I was I will always remember this special moment. I listened to Coldplay's 'A Sky Full of Stars' and hoped that one of those stars was Rosie. I needed her now more than ever. Here is the status I wrote 5 minutes before my swim,

"About to do the scariest leg for me - the one in the complete darkness. Had 15 minutes to reflect by listening to 'A Sky Full of Stars' whilst staring at the fullest sky of stars ever. The serenity of this adventure is amazing and hard to capture in words. The only way I can is by saying it is surreal. Hope you're shining down Rose - I need you now xxx"

 The time came around and I could not prolong the inevitable. It was time to jump in. The water felt colder to me (even though everyone else thought the French water was warmer). This was the only leg in which I really felt cold, I believe this was because I wasn't swimming as fast as I could due to not being comfortable which meant my core temperature dropped. I stayed close to the boat as I liked the comfort of seeing the light from it and always tried to keep myself in the illuminated water. I was swimming every second stroke meaning I looked at the boat every time I went to breathe. I normally breathe every three meaning I am a bilateral breather, however I could not face looking out to the left to an empty dark sea of nothingness. I tried it a few times and I actually felt my heart beating faster as if it was going to explode out of my chest. There is definitely a deep rooted phobia there. I did however notice that the rising moon was huge and was a beautiful shade of orange and pink. I was swimming by pink moonlight. 
 That hour dragged, I was desperate for the time alerts on my watch to go off. It was during this swim that I questioned the sanity of the solo swimmers. If it wasn't for being part of a team who relied on me I could've given up. I was bored, cold, tired, scared and way out of my comfort zone. I realised, for the definite near future, I had achieved all I wanted to achieve out of swimming the channel and I was doing so as a relay. Doing a solo you cannot stop at all, can't have that necessary hug from mum that we all need sometimes. I thought I was quite mentally strong but the soloists have to be made of some strong stuff. When I got out after my long hour I literally took my swim hat off to them! I was so relieved for this swim to be over. Whilst getting changed I text my mum saying I missed her, put my head in my towel and began to cry until I stopped myself, saying into the towel "Man the fuck up". I managed to get a hot chocolate down me and then went for a sleep below deck. I then had a very disturbed sleep constantly thinking about when we would make it to France. If everything went to plan that would be the last time I would swim. 

 Gill came in and asked me around 2am if I would like to swim with Julia to the finish (depending on whether she made it before the necessary changeover). Despite feeling rough I said I would like to but didn't want to seem too keen as didn't want to seem like I was taking the glory having started as well. No-one wanted to however, the channel had taken everything from us. However, Gill who wasn't a planned swimmer but came to support us and organised EVERYTHING said she could. Gill wanted to and after all Gill had done for us did not want to take this away from her. Of course I let Gill have the opportunity and she excitedly ran off to get changed. I decided it was time to resurface. The finish ended up being a pretty tense or as Gill would say, exciting moment. Julia was told upon entering her swim she had half a mile to shore (well rocks). She had therefore expected to be finished within 30-40 minutes. However, although the tide was said to get calmer nearer France it wasn't. When we left Dover we were being pushed 1.5 knots, during Julia's final swim she was being pushed 4 knots. As the end of her hour slot approached she was 400m away from Cap Griz Nez. This meant that Gill couldn't swim in with her as we had to do a changeover. Unfortunately for Dave who was still chucking up it meant he had to get in for a few minutes. So Dave and Julia swam to Cap Griz Nez together. This is basically an accumulation of rocks underneath a light house. They had to get there, climb on the rocks and swim back as quickly as possible as the rough tide was making it a matter of safety. The tide was basically trying to wash them and us past this point. If they did not do this it would mean Dave would've had to swim his full hour towards another section of France where we could land - meaning I would be swimming again (a thought I was not looking forward to). It is said that the tides and currents around Cap Griz Nez are the reasons as to why so many crossing attempts fail. Well done to Dave and Julia for battling onto the rocks, making time for a celebratory hug, and then getting back off again. Obviously at 3am it was not clear enough for us to be able to capture the moment we made it to France but we bloody did it! We were channel swimmers in an official time of 16h59m.


Our route to France
 The moments after that were surreal. In fact the best word for the whole trek was surreal. We all took different places to talk, sleep and reflect upon reaching France. Julia, Rob and Ann were below deck sleeping. Gill, Dave, Phil and I were at the back of the boat. We all chatted for a while and then parted again. Phil and I sat looking out the back of the boat towards the French island we had just swum to. There were a few conversations about how we felt and 'what next?' but as poignant a moment it was we were shattered. I had swum the channel on 2 hours sleep. It was also a moment that could be enjoyed in silence - sometimes silence speaks a thousand words. I thought of moving, of Rosie, and my feelings towards Ironman Wales. This time of reflection meant it wasn't long until we drifted off to sleep. After an hour sleeping upright became uncomfortable, Phil and I went downstairs to lie down properly. Not long after that we were woken up and told we had arrived back at Dover Harbour. It was all over. We cleared the boat of our kit, thanked the observer and drivers, and said our goodbye's to each other. 

 I was back home at 9.30am and in bed by 10am. I actually remember nothing of arriving back home. I felt numb, almost empty. I couldn't believe what I had just done. I slept from 10am-4.30pm. I then thought it was a good idea to have a shower. The day felt very weird. I shared a bottle of wine with my mum and carb loaded (eating real food again was lovely as opposed to haribo and malt loaf). I then went to bed again ready for work the day after. Even as I lay in bed that night it had still not sunk in what we achieved. 

 So here comes the reflective and soppy bit. So it has been over 24 hours since we arrived back in Dover - has it sunk in yet? No - I am still feeling very empty. Phil and I spoke briefly about it and he agreed on the feeling of emptiness. I questioned whether it was me being tired, overwhelmed, cold (I was still cold Saturday evening), having picked up a cold so not feeling 100% or just general appreciation or sadness that it was all over. Much like an Ironman you gear up for this epic day and then it is all over. All those months of training, hype, build up and then it's over as quickly as it began. Phil believed that it was due to there being no 'sprint finish' for most of us - no adrenaline or endorphin hit to ride the elation of completing something. Hopefully in the next few days when I awake from the euphoria/relief I can appreciate what we did. 
 So, would I do it again? No. I have achieved all I wanted to out of crossing the channel as a team.
 Did I find it hard? Honestly, it was not the hardest thing I have ever done but it tested me in different ways. I found the mental side of getting out, being bashed about the boat whilst changing and recovering horrible. Then there was the horrible countdown until your next swim which drained me mentally and we had a seemingly big 5 hour gap between each person. I personally think I would rather do it solo than have any lesser time than 3 hours to recover and recuperate energy. I will admit now that I arrogantly thought I would find it a piece of cake and I definitely didn't. Apart from my horrible third swim the hard bit actually wasn't the swimming it was everything that came with it. We trained well for the swimming so were prepared for that however some things, like being thrown around on a boat and getting sea sick, you just can't prepare for.
 Big question - would I do it solo? Doing a solo crossing was another thing on my ever growing bucket list and there was a point on my first and second swims I thought I could continue. However, after my horrific final swim it is not something I would even consider for a considerable amount of time. I have achieved all I need to right now and have nothing to prove. IF I ever did decide to however I would have to solely focus on it and train hard in order to get good time splits. I would also have to find something to occupy my mind whilst swimming. I have said on numerous occasions I love swimming and the pure reflective enjoyment and feeling of being free however swimming for 15-20 hours alone is another level. Ironman is a lonely sport, swimming is a solitary sport and as much as I can bear my own company I think I would drive myself insane! It's time to focus on triathlon and Ironman for now. 

 Finally I want to say thank you to everyone who supported me through this adventure. The amount of Facebook and Twitter notifications was astounding and if I could have I would've replied to every single one. I can assure you the words that were said really pushed me on when times got tough. I also want to thank all those who sponsored me recently - it means more than I can express in words.
 I of course owe a big thank you to The Salty Seals team; Ann, Dave, Julia, Phil and Rob - without you guys it obviously would not have been possible. Together we achieved our dreams and ticked another thing off our bucket lists. I may be going away to Lanzarote and starting afresh but I think this sort of challenge bonds you in a different way. Regardless of what happens or where we all end up we will all remember with who and when we became channel swimmers. It really is a once in a lifetime memory.
 I also want to say a HUGE thank you to Gill who's selfless desire to see us become channel swimmers shone through even though she was not swimming and when she must have inevitably been struggling with her own emotions as well as tiredness. Gill was our mascot and organiser and was always the face you longed to see when feeling rough. Your support and knowledge throughout the whole process including training made it that much better. I challenge anyone to not brighten up upon talking to Gill and seeing her smile. You truly are one of a kind and I will never forget the kindness you have shown me in regards to making this challenge seem possible. Aside from this you have shown me emotionally that life carries on and as Dory would say, "Just keep swimming". This is a quote that can be put towards swimming against the tide and to life in general . If I ever do do a solo you're my lady!

 With the channel ticked off it's now full steam ahead to Ironman Wales. In four weeks time I will be putting my mind and body through what I believe really will be the hardest event of my life.

So....did I mention? I AM A CHANNEL SWIMMER.
    
Smiles at the start

 
Smiles at the end

Thursday 7 August 2014

Die with memories, not dreams

 I wasn't intending to write this blog post so soon after my social media announcement about moving to Lanzarote (for those who haven't read it on there - I am moving to Lanzarote!). However I feel I should before this weekend as I could be needing to write another shortly after detailing my Channel Swim efforts. Aside from this fact however I also found a perfect reason to explain one of the reasons as to why I am making this life changing move. This came to me whilst I sat in Sky's canteen having dinner. It dawned on me as I poured my Uncle Ben's risotto into a container and topped that off with some Tesco pre-cooked chicken that I had had all my meals that day either on the way to work or at work. I awoke at 6am and got my sports gear on and grabbed my bags with my work clothes inside. I then started on my 1h30 commute to work. This is where I had a banana and an obligatory Skinny Latte that I picked up at Fleet Services to break the journey up. I then trained for 2 hours before work at Sky's gym. After a tough workout I got some breakfast and ate at my desk. I had my pre-made pasta for lunch at work, trained again on another break and then ate dinner at work. I will work until 10pm and then travel the 1h30 back home only to flop exhausted on my bed only to repeat it all over again the next day. That's 17 and a half hours away from home. The routine of it is depressing. Even if I got back at 11.30pm I would have to be asleep by midnight to even guarantee I got 6 hours sleep (2 hours short of the recommended amount). I see quotes from coaches on a daily basis slating people like myself, "sleep is just as important as the hours you spend training". However, for me there are physically no more hours in the day for me and the last time I checked no-one had invented a Bernard's Watch where you can stop time. I don't want to sound like I am moaning as I picked this job and the industry - I knew shift work was hard and I am not complaining as I am doing something about it but I did think even before I made the decision to move to Lanzarote, "Is this really what my life at 23 years old has come to?" (and with a successful career in this industry it would only get worse). Something had to give. Since working at Sky triathlon has increasingly become a bigger part of my life and since September last year when I made that promise to Rosie, my real focus. The balance was getting tough to keep. Which was more important to me? This revelation came on my latest trip to Lanzarote...

 I think it is evident from my Lanzarote blog post from July (A life changing trip - my third time to Lanzarote) that I absolutely adored my training, the friends I made and the island. From day 2 of the trip I was thinking "I could live here" - in all honesty after my first trip to Lanzarote in March where I first fell in love with the island I knew that. Someone recently told me I write about the island like it's a long lost friend - quite poetic and a nice way to explain it. Throughout the week which got increasingly better the discussion in my head about moving got louder and louder. It went from "I could live here" to "I want to live here" to "I need to live here". However the "sensible" part of my brain was ringing loud; 'you aren't risky enough', 'you can't lose your house' (I had had an offer on a 2 bed cottage accepted just days before flying)  'you can't leave your job and the money'. The long rides enabled me to argue these over and over until I began to find some real things about myself. I love my job, I worked hard to get where I am, but I admitted to Sam after some time of reflection, that I like saying I work at Sky News, it gets a 'Wow - what do you do there' every single time. Was this the reason I was staying? Or was it this admittance to myself which meant I was ready to say goodbye? I had my career planned in Sky, I was due to go on a secondment to my dream job imminently (that I had arranged) which would see me travel the world following the stories and reporters. Surely I couldn't give this up?

 Those long rides were as cliche and dramatic as it sounds were absolutely life changing. I learnt so much about myself and what I want from life. I learnt how to cope with the breakdown of my 5 year relationship. I realised although I think of Rosie more often when cycling in Lanzarote it does not bring me down. I feel as if I am being proactive and for the first time since losing Rose, coping. I also realised I hate the materialism of the UK. I do not need much (bar a nice bike) in Lanzarote to keep me happy and I if I ever get bored of the lava fields it will be time to leave! You work to live, not live to work. This was the lifestyle I craved and I believe needed - I felt liberated by it.
 The arguments continued in my head throughout that week but I began making potential plans. First I decided I would try this new job and see how it goes. The next day I decided I would see how it goes and try to get a sabbatical. I wanted to live the Lanzarote dream so badly but I was terrified of throwing the routine life I had in the UK away as much as it knackered me out. I wished I could live both paths but that was not possible.

 I didn't delve into this on my Lanzarote blog as I wanted to portray the trip as the happy trip it was and not for the dips, however, the day before I left I was reserved and felt like I was in a bubble, watching the world go by. I didn't feel like I was leaving to end a holiday, I felt like I was leaving home. As I sat in the airport having gone through customs I received messages from the friends I made there. Nathan's lovely words made me cry and that didn't stop when Sam was messaging me too. I felt numb and was unsure what I was going to do even when I landed in the UK. I tried to make myself believe it was a holiday over and I could just return when I saw fit. I did the two night shifts I had left (a depressing whack back to reality) and then saw my mum. I am very much a person who speaks through words. If I have something I want to say I write it down and email it so I can be objective, get my points out and make a conclusion, much like a generic story or journalistic piece. However, I could not do this this time. Of course mum asked how Lanzarote was, my reply was I want to move there - she laughed, I didn't. I then cried and explained as much as I could through the tears. Mum then said, "I just want you to be happy". She also said, "After everything we have been through it is evident you only live once, I fully support you". I felt like I could burst - I needed my parents support more than anything. In those 15 minutes we pulled out of the house purchase. My life was starting to change and my tears soon disappeared. I had butterflies full of excitement - I knew in that moment I had made the best decision of my life.
 When my sister  found out however I felt awful and selfish. I couldn't do this to her. I doubted myself - had I really done the right thing? Could I really leave my sister now? However selfish this may sound I knew I had to as I truly believe by staying in the UK I would be heading in a downward spiral of depression. I admitted to myself that I simply was not happy in the UK. People may think I'm mad to be giving up my job and the decent salary I earn for my age and I am scared but back to another one of my favourite quotes, "If your dreams don't scare you, they're not big enough".

 Another example to push me to make the move was when I was sat at work looking at some of the vision from Gaza (the stuff viewers would never get to see). I have grown, or more like, had to grow a thick skin since working at Sky News as some of the images we see are horrific. However, for the first time during my time there I couldn't cope with it and nearly broke down seeing the bodies of children and the anguish and pain of their parents, something I have seen first hand. I couldn't edit it and my colleague said I didn't have to - since then he has not made me. Maybe my skin has weakened, maybe I want to run away from the truth (judge me all you want) but either way I don't want to see it anymore. I don't want to see it on a screen in a room let alone follow this despair around the world. I knew then this industry was not right for me in this stage of my life and my emotional state.

 I truly believe that it was fate that took me on that holiday and I think it's fate I met the people I did. Sam, Nathan, Seb and I are all different ages, brought up in different ways, in different places, however we all have a past. We have all had some form of sadness that has changed us a person. I think we were meant to meet and I have gained so much inspiration from you all. Without meeting Nathan and Seb who made the move to Lanzarote I know I wouldn't even have dreamed of doing this - so thank you! And without Sam well I wouldn't have had the amazing time I did or even met the people we did so I can't thank you enough and I know I've made a lifelong friend in you.
 Finally I also believe this venture is Rosie guiding me in some way. Without losing Rosie my path would never have been taken on this journey. I would never have been chasing Kona, hell I may never have done an Ironman again! Rosie although not with us in person has made me discover my real passion in life, fitness and triathlon.

 So what am I doing out there - well I am tempting no fate but I would like to help others achieve their sporting dreams but I shall say no more. I will however be going regardless of a job proposition, the latest date I will be there is the 27th October but job dependent I could be there within a month. I have learnt rather painfully over the last 11 months that life is too short and you only get one chance at it, living in Lanzarote is something I have to do in my lifetime. I will train like a bitch to get to Kona in Rosie's memory whilst there and I am going to change my career to my passion. Bring on the Lanza lifestyle!
 I am going to finally finish with a quote I have as the background on my phone to remind me every time I look at it to make my dream a reality. Thank you for all your support - there will be more information to follow so watch this space!



Sunday 3 August 2014

The real countdown begins - what will be will be

 So sadly all good things come to an end and I am finally getting over the nostalgia of not being in Lanzarote anymore. Welcome back to the 15 hour days at Sky News. I thought I would mark this landmark countdown to my 'A' race of this year by writing a blog update. It is officially 6 weeks until Ironman Wales. This time in 43 days I will be on the walk down to start the 2.4mile swim loop around Tenby's North Beach. I will relive all the emotions I encountered last year and once that cannon goes off it's me against the clock and the 2000 other athletes who will be wanting to complete the brutal Welsh Ironman course. In particular however, I'll be chasing and trying to fend off the 10 other women in my age group to get that desired Kona slot.

 So how am I feeling? I can honestly say I am feeling good. I am excited. I have built up a following of people some of whom are either competing or travelling to Tenby to support me (as well as experience the unique atmosphere that Ironman Wales offers). I am also excited about challenging myself and to see my progression. Being the only Ironman I have done twice I will be able to get a clear comparison of how I have improved in a year. I am also excited to throw myself into an Ironman that means so much to me. I have no doubt it will be emotionally tough. Ironman is that in itself let alone the pain surrounding the area. I couldn't hold it together in Lanzarote, how will I cope when the stakes are higher and the location holds so many memories? I obviously cannot answer this now but I am full of anticipation (I am awaiting the nerves to kick in anytime in the next few weeks though).
 I have obviously thought about this race a lot and what it means to me over the last year and after much reflection feel for the first time ever I have truly taken the pressure off myself. Not so much that I do not want to taste the success but just enough to be able to say 'what will be will be'. I have exciting things happening over the next year and much to look forward to. For my own happiness and success I need to go into Wales with the same anticipation I did last year and just enjoy the event and the unique atmosphere and support of Tenby, which I still argue cannot be rivaled anywhere else. I have even spoken to one of my main 'rivals', although I don't like calling her that. Jodie Moss came second in our age group last year, I came in third 30 minutes behind, and she is going for that one Kona slot this year as well. I had done my own research into Jodie previously, as she admitted she had done with me. I had decided to stop analysing the competition a few months ago, concluding I can only do my best. Whilst sat being interviewed for a future book (not about me personally) the author, Lucy, told me she had previously interviewed Jodie. In fact she had heard about me through Jodie. Lucy explained to me that Jodie wanted it so badly but also wanted me to have it too due to what I have been through. Lucy said she was lovely and I can now vouch for that too. She has also just gone through some of her own personal issues and I am deeply sorry Jodie. I promise I'm not the sort to slash your tyres, many say I'm too nice, so I look forward to meeting you personally. As much as I want qualify this year I have no hard feelings for who gets it - at the end of the day the best man, or in our case woman, wins and there is no point over analysing the competition as with any Ironman, it is a long day where anything can happen! If it doesn't I will just train harder next year and my journey will continue.

 So what else has happened? Well...I can now call myself a Team GB age group triathlete as my GB kit arrived this week. I was so excited when I saw the package on the floor and whipped off the clothes I was in and put it on. Luckily it fit! Seeing my name on a GB trisuit was an amazing moment - if I had chance to think I'm sure I would've cried. I rushed over to my parents wearing my trisuit and revealed it to my Dad. He gave me a huge hug - a special moment for us both.

GB selfie - I think I'm allowed this one!
My name in all its glory!
 I am in Ironman Wales mode at the moment so haven't really acknowledged the full extent of what this means to me but I shall delve a little. I never ever thought it would be possible for me, the fat kid who wasn't brought up on a bike and could only run when forced (probably for chocolate), would have earned the privilege to wear a GB trisuit. It's a dream I never even sought possible. It also has to be said none of this would've been achieved without having Rosie as my inspiration and motivation. Every step I take within triathlon she is there with me, so I owe much of this achievement to Rose as I do to myself. So yes, it means a hell of a lot. Some people aim for this as opposed to Kona, hopefully one day I'll achieve both. The event in which I wear it is a half Ironman distance (1.2m, 56m, 13.1m) triathlon (middle distance) in Peguera in Mallorca on the 18th October. My parents and my sister will be coming out to support me so will be a nice time away too.
 I am struggling to accept this is a personal achievement but when I have completed Wales it'll be my next big event so maybe it'll all kick in then? However, I still think it will be one of those things I can never really comprehend or put into words what it really means. I just hope somewhere down the line my parents and my family are proud of me, as as well as doing what I do for Rosie I am doing it with them in mind too.

 Finally, my next event is swimming the channel. My window opens on the 9th August which means I can get a call at any time over this week telling me it is time to head to Dover. I need to pack a channel swim bag that I take everywhere, much like an expectant mother! My honest emotions towards this is that I am absolutely crapping myself. I am beyond nervous. I hate the dark, the cold and all sea creatures. Why did I sign up for this?! The two quotes I have in my head when I think about all these fears is, "If your dreams don't scare you, they're not big enough" and "Do one thing everyday that scares you" (I'll certainly be doing my fair share when in the channel!). As part of a relay team someone recently mentioned about the order. Some suggested that we pick it out of a hat but I piped up and explained my worries. I opted to go first mainly because I will happily admit I am the woosiest at getting in and getting in from shore is a comfort thing for me. I am also freaking out about the changeovers in the middle of the channel so getting to see 5 others do it before I have to swim again will give me a confidence boost. The rules go that once you let go of the boat you cannot touch it again until your hour of swimming is up. By going first it means I will probably swim the most but this only weirdly excites me more even though it does mean longer in the water with the jellyfish! We may also have a BBC film crew with us on our crossing, so another bit of motivation to not be a woos! I will however take Dory's advice from Finding Nemo and 'just keep swimming'.

 I also want to welcome into the world my youngest nephew Charlie James Robert. You will be smothered in love and so so spoilt! I cannot wait for cuddles tonight! So as per I have an exciting few weeks coming up - will update on some further news soon!