On being injured at the worst possible time...

I have not posted for a long time, mainly because I kept telling myself 'I will post when I'm fixed and running again'.

The problem is, it has now been 5.5weeks, and I am not running, or even riding (if I am - it hurts - and I should not be), and I am certainly not racing anywhere.

Basically, I trapped a nerve in my back and now the nerve is damaged. It feels fine from time to time, but as soon as I ask my leg to do anything, it flares up like an angry wasp stuck in a coke bottle.

I'm not sure when I did it, or how. It can be caused by something silly like twisting strangely or tripping oddly. Factors that can make you prone to doing so are multiple - It can be genetic and to do with the way your back is formed. It can also be just to do with having a core that isn't strong enough to support your level of activity. Sitting at a desk and walking with bad posture doesn't help. Even being a bit too flexible in some parts can be a factor. I expect in my case, considering my mum has had the same problem in the past, I know I have a weak core (the effect of taking up sport aged 21 after several years inactivity, with no knowledge of core strength or how to obtain it), and I spent my teenage years prancing around doing ballet and street jazz (and stretching myself into funny contortions), I'm a perfect candidate.

All I can say is I am more irritated than the nerve. I've been working for this season since October, it's now eight months later, and I can't reap the rewards. In fact, walking from here to my bedroom seems like a mission right now. Of course, I've been happily charging around and living life almost exactly as I would if it didn't hurt, mainly because it makes me feel less like an invalid, even if it probably doesn't help recovery.

I know that everyone struggles with injury at some point. I also know that outside my own little selfish, tunnel-visioned world, there is a lot more to life than my getting a new PB or placing well in a race, anyway. In fact, it's almost laughable that I even care when you consider the world in a wider context. But, of course, I do care.

I'm not sure how long this is going to take to fix itself, only that I have so far:
- Tried super strong anti-inflammatories - the problem here being they mask pain. Now I've run out of them, I hurt.
- Seen three physios - one who told me to squat, one who told me I'd be fine in a couple of weeks, and another who gravely told me it could take months.
- Tried acupuncture - it doesn't hurt, but I'm not sure it worked either.
- Seen a chiropractor, who I'm going back to today.

I couldn't really do much more, for starters, there is a certain financial barrier to all this.

I've been through a rainbow of emotions, none of them worth the state they put me in and none of them all that necessary or justified. Wallowing never helped anyone, and it isn't going to make a damaged nerve get better any quicker. All I can say is that Julia Arthurs, Maurice Brennan and Mari Balbi all deserve medals for putting up with me.

I suppose it is time to accept that this might just take a while. The key season, really, is over the summer months. Races where you get to thrash around in the lakes are now, and so are the ones where you get to qualify and wear a shiny GBR suit.

The problem with this one is that no one can put a time scale on it. Generally 6-8 weeks, could be 12. It's been nearly 6. So if only another two weeks, I could well race through July, August and September. I might do some races at a decent level of fitness come the very end of the year. But if not, they will still be there next year.

For now, I need to fix the problem. I can race later in the year, I could do the winter Ballbuster, or try some of those chilly October/November/December duathlons that only crazy people enter.

Injury sucks - but I've been here before, it sucked just as bad, and eventually it got better. This time is no different. So, there's my update - not very inspiring, I'm afraid, but hopefully honest none-the-less.

On Others..

Currently I am unable to walk too well.

Long story short - TT Sat: all fine.
Long run Sun: Turned into a race with a random vet who sped up as soon as I passed him, and my long "recovery" run became a 20min race to the petrol station. It was a good 20mins - I think we both enjoyed it - but it was verging on my 5k race-pace so not too healthy. But no pain.
Mon: Club swim - all fine. (major arm/shoulder pain - more lessons in all the technique I'm missing!)
Tues: Got on the treadmill, started to warm up, and PING. Entire right leg hurts. Of course, I continue to do 10x2mins hard, 1min recovery. Cool down. Since then - leg has been a twisted mess, starting from my bum and going all the way down to my ankle - eg sciatic nerve. I can ride, but driving/walking/etc are all pretty painful.

So enough of me - other than to say I'm seeing chiropractor today (fingers crossed for a resolution) and that RUNNING IS BAD FOR YOU. Today I intend to muse on others. It'll stop me wallowing in self pity, for starters.

Yesterday, I marshalled at the SCCU 25mile TT in Horsham. I've never marshalled before, and all I can say is that it was truly eye opening.

Before I analyse, please accept this disclaimer: I'm mocking, but in an entirely friendly manner. I probably make all of the mistakes below. For the record, here's what my heart is likely to be doing mid-race. I'm not big on all this Strava data sharing - but I do like to have a good bit of heart rate analysis..

So, it begins.
For starters, it was apparent there are a selection of different attitudes available.
1) I am racing this and I am going to ride as hard as I damn well can.
1a) As above, and doing it well, riding is smooth and controlled
1b) As above, and doing it badly, hufflepuffle, excess energy expending
2) I am taking part in this event purely for fun
3) Look at my shiny bike. This bike will make me fast. Even if I peddle slowly in a low gear. Even if it doesn't make me fast.. isn't it pretty?

All of those falling into category (1) are those who barely acknowledge the marshall standing on the roundabout. I totally appreciate this, the point of a time trial is that the clock is ticking and every second is valuable. Groups (2) and (3), instead, tend to firstly, slow down for non-existent cars, JUST IN CASE some magical car pops out from nowhere, then, they look at the marshall and say "thank you!" I found this truly confusing.

As well as making these mental notes, as my fingers froze up and my toes turned blue, I took to naming those taking part:
1) Hungry - spotted with a gel hanging out of mouth, unable to squeeze the contents as this will disrupt air flow over the elbows. Notably skinny, and considering consuming a gel 16miles into a 25 TT, I can only assume either did not consume enough breakfast and is now suffering, or has a body which burns calories like fire does newspaper.
 2) Noddy - usuig around 50% of all available energy shifting madly from side to side, head bobbing, legs turning like a windmill in a sandstorm. Cadence through the roof, going nowhere.
3) Snotty - yep.
4) Happy - Sailing past, smiling, maybe even waving..
5) Mr(s) Smooth - The good riders, gliding past with a disc wheel making that satisfying "vroom-vroom-vroom" noise that fits so well with "P.. L..F.."

Myself? Well I'm probably 'Angry', usually stirred up by my pre-event Slipknot mantra ("I push my fingers into my eyyeeessss... it's the only thing... that slowly stops the accheeeee" is the perfect song to sing when you begin to lose concentration).

You get the idea. I amused myself quite well with this game for, I suppose around 90minutes. I also ate an orange, and thought very hard about not eating the KitKat I got given as a treat for taking on the job (I ate a quarter of it instead..)

I think you can learn a lot through watching other people race - you can see the good riders, spot the similarities between them, and though you might never manage to emulate, a couple of tips might slip into your ride next time.

So, back to myself. I can't run right now, and I'm avoiding riding, so maybe best to use my time to learn from others. Then, whenever I'm fixed, I'll have a go at putting it all into practise.

PB-a-Holic

Yesterday was the Bentley/Farnham TT (H25/8). I went somewhat better than expected.
In short : 01.03.22 - 6mins20secs faster than last Summer on the H25/8.

The course is not totally flat, it has some drags and a few descents, but it basically consists of riding between two roundabouts, you can't go wrong, and the road surface is generally good. The day was a little windy, but nothing nasty - though I did feel myself being blown about on a couple of occasions, which made me question how safe I would be on those Cosmic Carbons I want so badly..

Last year, on the same course, I did 1.09.48. I was aiming for 1.05.00 - but that was the absolute goal, I would have been happy just to see a 1.07.00.

11miles in, there is a roundabout - I wanted to get to it by 00.30.00. I checked the Garmin at the time, and was bang on. I was helped out by passing my Dad on several occasions - it makes a big difference passing someone who's routing for you. I also passed Geoff on the roundabout, who gave me a huge cheer which made my legs push harder.

The next miles where made up of goals- get to 15miles in Xmins, 20miles in Xmins. I forget all the goals now. What struck me was that the road seemed to be blurring into this awesome swirley grey ocean, I didn't feel like I was working all that hard, it felt more that the road was pulling me along.

From 15miles, I was totally confused - because I was minutes ahead of the goal I'd agreed for myself. Same at 20miles. I genuinely thought my Garmin might be broken, so I just carried on pedalling and hoped it was telling me the truth.

Long story short, I finished in 01.03.22, beat the Redhill CC 25mile Womens Record, which I had hoped to do by the end of Summer - but not in April!

I wouldn't say I think it is a good time - there were women there knocking out some amazing rides - but it was a damn good time for me. With only one year of TT behind me, I hope I've got a lot more to give.

I will add that I now have a TT helmet, and I'm on my very own Roo (who has shared many turbo hours with me), as opposed to the (very generously lent!!) Specialized Transition. Arguably some of the improvement is less than physical - but over 6mins off a time in one year, I have to admit, is a lot more than I expected. I was basically ecstatic.

True to what I promised myself, I added a transition run, and unlike the last post-TT run, it felt almost - dare I say it - good. I had planned 5k, but to be honest, I was desperate to check my time (my Garmin said 1.03.24 but I still didnt believe it) so I only managed 2.5miles - but it was a decent pace.

There was some painfully fast women there, one who I've seen kick my ass at a few events clocked 1.01.?? - but more amazingly - one woman from Drag2zero.com got 54mins - but that is basically beyond human. I knew this one wasn't about getting in the top 3 - it was a chance for me to genuinely measure improvement. This year, vs last.

I suppose that is why we all do this, why we get on our bikes or strap on trainers and plunge into skanky cold pools when we'd rather be sitting on the sofa. A new PB demonstrates accomplishment, and that pretty much epitomises satisfaction, if you ask me.

All I can say, is mission accomplished - I just hope I can keep it going throughout Summer!

On Track

Time has past, much has happened. I'll update as quickly and non-fluffily as possible.

Firstly, I went to Majorca, which was amazing. I estimate between 400-450 miles in the six days of riding (two days cut short due to rain and wind that, along the coast, actually made me feel scared enough to find the largest male I could to provide a shield on the left hand side), with some runs thrown in and some very cold swims in the out door pool. Max speed of 47.4mph, which is a new PB for me.

All in all though - it was amazing - a wonderful time spent with wonderful people, made possible through the hard work of a few. 4 star hotel, copious amounts of buffet, great company. My favourite climb, by far, was the Sa Collobra. The day was wet, the descent was scary as a result, but by that point I seemed to have just about discovered my climbing legs.

I spent much of the week riding with my new found riding friend, Lisa. I can't tell you what a breath of fresh air it was to ride with another woman. No offence, I promise, to the men I ride with, you're all lovely, but it was wonderful to feel the companionship of a bit of gossip and giggle that to be honest, I think I've largely tuned out to over the past couple of years being one of few women in a male dominated world. It gave me hope for our Redhill Racers womens team, that it might actually materialise. It also made me work harder, being suddenly not the token female on an all male ride, I had a partner to work with on the days we were both struggling, and I had to work to maintain my 'strong female rider' bravado when it was only me who was feeling the burn.

There was a moment which brought reality crashing home, as we swooped into a town following an 8k climb and a longer descent. Riders slowed, cars came to a standstill, and like a procession of sullen faced funeral attendees we each passed the man on the ground. A first aider was trying to revive a man who, we suppose, had suffered a heart attack and fallen, but it didn't look hopeful and though we heard ambulance sirens on the way to the scene, I never heard them returning him to the hospital in any hurry. That was a sombre ride home.

Since return, I've had a few good glimmers of hope for Summer. Firstly, I genuinely think I'm learning to like hills. It may be because I've lost some of the winter pounds (3.5kg of them, but still 2kg of the silly off-season-lard-based-weight to lose), but actually, I think in Majorca there was no escape from them, there was no 'o, it's a short, British section of hill, I'll just grind up it then smash the flat' - I had to push it or I'd lose the group, and I did. I've always said the battle between hills and myself is mental, and I think I'm starting to beat it.

I've now most definitely become a part of Redhill and Reigate Swim Club, and they, in turn, are now part of my routine. I've also started a regular Tuesday track session, first just with a friend, now with Reigate Priory Run club. Getting up at 6am to train so I can relax in the evening was ok, but I'm starting to see that maybe having a more relaxed morning and an evening session where I can socialise AND train is probably better.

First results seem reassuring. I got 2nd lady at an SCCU TT - but was more pleased with the time. My flat, mid summer PB last year (first year TTing) was 1.09 on a totally flat course, but here I got 1.08(.58!!) on a hillier, sporting course. Early in the season, when legs are still adjusting from winter hibernation, this seems good.

And after a brief spell considering dropping running and swimming altogether and just riding my bike, passion seems to be back for Tri and I got a new Banstead Park Run time of 23.36 last weekend. I'm the first to admit 23.36 is still quite poor, and no where near where I want to be, but I'm reassuring myself with the fact Banstead is a genuinely cross country, muddy, pretty (I'd say very, some may disagree..) hilly course - and yet my time is similar/the same/faster than my concrete-flat Brighton ones. Of course, this is all speculative, I hear you say, time to get on some flat courses. Regardless, it may not be a good time, but it's better - and improvment is a gradual progress, not a sprint.


I think what I needed was a break from routine, a break from 6am sweating on the turbo and running in the frost alone. Racing starts for real April 29, then May 5, May 19th, June-needs-dates, and July 01. Hopefully, I'm back on track. Literally(on a Tuesday evening) and figuratively.

With compliments

Today I leave for Majorca! Exciting.

To compliment the last post, and ensure I don't fall behind on blogging, here is a word doodle I wrote some years ago that seems to fit the theme and sum up my holiday vibe, and my thoughts last time I wrote. Good to know my idealism hasn't dwindled much in the last couple of years:


Last night I lay awake with my head against the pillow, listening to the blood rushing in my ears as my heart thudded in my chest, my body strangely energised as sleep approached.

I realise sometimes how fragile my body is. The truth is that my days inhabiting this shell I carry around are numbered.

Each of us has a bank account full of days, and we are wasting them on loans which will never be able to guarantee us more. Nobody will ever know the extent of their days. Days, then, should be filled with experience – tasting the untasted, feeling the explosion of flavour open the doors to the uncertain, the forbidden and the breathtaking.

I do not know why we are here; I do not know what is next. What I do know is that my life is not a waiting room, dedicated to the pursuit of good appearance, success or pride; my life is an opportunity.

We speak of jobs, holidays, relationships, purchases in the sale as opportunities – but we are forgetting the most monumental opportunity any of us will ever receive: the opportunity of life. My life is a blessing and I intend to grab it as it races by, and never let go.

Bicycle V Car

Last week has been a little hectic.
On Saturday I did a sportive - shocking average speed - but wet, foggy and hilly so I suppose acceptable. Thankfully the speed on my Garmin is not AS shocking as what is recorded online. I've never taken part in a sportive before - but I find the concept of a timing chip strapped to your leg on a ride where you are actively encouraged to stop via vans filled with cake/drinks etc a bit odd.
Sunday - ran.
Monday - swam.
Tuesday - got driven into by an idiot driver during my commute home. 1 week and 1 day before meant to be boarding a plane to Majorca.

You know you've got a real love for cycling (I wont pretend I was as worried about run/swimming) when thoughts on being hit are:
O wow - that hurts --> what hurts? --> legs hurt --> in what way will this affect training, and will it impact racing? --> Am I still going to Majorca? --> Is my bike ok? Finally followed by a thorough mental check of bodily parts.

Thanks to my screaming excessively loudly and repeatedly, a bit like a fog horn, and I suppose my being sprawled on the road next to a bicycle, an ambulance was phoned for, as were police, and the rest is history because I'm fine. Excluding bruises and a pretty sore neck - it would seem in flinging arms to protect head I pulled a load of muscles.

My bike less so, she's had some updated parts, and I can sense an ongoing insurance battle before I see any money back. I have to admit, I was pretty heartbroken when I examined my Dulce, I still am, but at least she tells a story.

I could blog about the injustice of the relationship between drivers and cyclists, the fact that in this case the driver was just completely careless, but I won't because enough has been said already. So I revert to type to talk about myself.

I've never been very good at recovery, but following actually being hit by a car I think one has to accept defeat and I took two days totally off. On Friday, I decided to try a little run. I felt very naughty as I pulled on my trainers and clicked the door behind me. I took it easy, the inclines hurt my knees, but it was ok.

In the evening, I tested a little swim - also ok, though I won't lie and say it didn't hurt at all. And today I rode - carefully and easily, but I still got on the bike and got out, which I have to say is more than I thought I would be able to do on Tuesday night when my knees were screaming.

When my body isn't performing how I want it, isn't getting faster quick enough, feels heavy when I want to feel light and weak when I want to feel strong, it is tempting to feel frustrated with it for not achieving the goals. It has to be said though, this week - my body has done a damn good job of recovering.

I almost say that with an ounce of worry - maybe I'm speaking too soon and some nasty repercussion is set to rear its head soon. But for now, I suppose I'm very grateful to this set of limbs that support me, even when I doubt their ability to do so. Hopefully, I will bear this in mind next time the numbers on the clock don't meet my desires.

Too eager to recover..

Writing up my brand new plan I got quite excited with club sessions and including races and competitive events. I took myself off to the Redhill Sporting TT on Sunday, not my sort of TT - far too many hills, but good none the less good training and a chance to test out the Roo (who was very beautiful). It felt like a good ride and provided some confidence for the season ahead. I didn't place two well - third of three women! - but you can't help who else is there.

I did dwell on the matter for a bit - but some google-stalking proved the 2nd woman was actually (unless there are two of them..) a triathlete who placed pretty well in the half Ironman world champs and won a load of races last season so I feel less shortchanged, and to be honest wished I'd made more conversation, as opposed to feeling a bit grumpy at having my ass kicked. As always, it would have been nice if more women had been there to compete against.



The day before I did an 'easy spin' club ride over 50 miles which turned out to have an average speed not far off my normal ride pace, but it felt slow enough and suppose it was flatter and I was on the Roo, so maybe it wasn't too much of a push. And the day after was a club swim session - shorter and fewer hard sets than what I'd usually do, but of course the hard sets were harder with a shorter recovery.

Tuesday was interval running - and though speeds from a couple of weeks ago felt a lot easier, I didn't much feel like pushing it and pressing the nasty little '+' sign on the evil-machine-of-running-hell, which is of course is what one needs to do to get faster. And I had planned turbo for today, but frankly, my dear, I'm tired.

A dip into the diary tells me my last recovery week was about 4 weeks ago - which following the format of 3 hard weeks, 1 easy, is too much - and probably explains the lack lustre approach to the last couple of days. I basically completely lost track of where I was in the programme and forgot to add the missing recovery week in.

Sometimes it is so easy to get caught up in the excitement of a new plan and forget about the resting which is so often advertised as equally important. I think the first event of the season also did a lot of fill my mind with more energy than my legs could maintain.

I suppose, having come to sport so late in life, I just desperately want to make up for lost time, and I just want to be at the top of my game in the blink of an eyelid. The problem is, that isn't how the body works.

Learning to read your body is a good marker point on the journey, though. I'm taking the other half of the week as recovery. Unless my body actually falls apart I don't much see the point in extending it to a full week and I'm hoping to get get enough rest in so I can get a good run of training (and semi racing) come the weekend. Hopefully I'll be ready to go by then. Happy swim, bike, running all ;-p