It’s not your foot

It’s not your foot   To those of you who read what used to be regular updates, you’ve probably figured I’ve done something to myself. No racing, no reports… and

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Diggin’ Deauville

Diggin’ Deauville   Half-fuelled by a water-logged Starbucks coffee, I am nursing a very sore foot as my mind wanders back to the International Triathlon in Deauville a few weeks

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70.3 Rapperswil

70.3 Rapperswil   Unbelievably, in all my years as a Swiss triathlete I had never made it 70.3 Rapperswil. I wanted to make sure I ticked that box this year

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Ventouxman

Ventouxman   Having done Aix and Bilbao back-to-back, I had two weeks to recover and cram in some training before tackling the tough Ventouxman, a race I particularly wanted to

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Bilbao triathlon

Bilbao triathlon   They say time goes quicker as you get older. If that is true then I sure as hell don’t want to be 60: I’m half that and

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70.3 Pays d’Aix

70.3 Pays d’Aix   For once I don’t particularly want to write. I’m tired, my fingers are struggling across the keyboard and I don’t know how to make yet another

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Cruising in Cannes

Cruising in Cannes   Very silly way to start a blog. Not only does it sound pompous but whatever I did in Cannes, it certainly wasn’t cruising. Then again, “cruising” is

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Picnic racing

Picnic racing The price of satisfaction   Tucked neatly into my aero position, I reached down for the bottle of nutrition I had prepared the night before and took a

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Hell of the West

Hell of the West   “Morning! Excuse me?!” It was 3.30am, pitch black and I was standing outside the only lit, open doorway in the street, peering beyond the front

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70.3 Dubai

70.3 Dubai   I swerved and wobbled, narrowly missing the foot of a metre-high, bright orange cone separating the racecourse from the other three lanes of motorway. These oversized triangles

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