Deauville. Le retour. A year, almost to the day, since I competed in my last race. So much water under the bridge. So many changes, so many negatives, and
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Facing the Truth I have started this blog about 15 times in the last few days. Crossed out lines, ripped out pages, thrown a few pens across the room
Volcano runs One minute I was jogging easily along the singletrack circling the volcano, singing along to some goddawful 90s’ disco hit. The next I was sprawled full length
Living on Lanza The Highlander, Motowns – British Family Bar, The Black Bull and a souvenir shop promising PG Tips and Marmite line the main car park in the
REST DAY The two most dreaded words on the training plan… Backside wedged between two cushions and laptop balanced precariously on my knees, I glance yet again at the clock
Landing on Lanza Wednesday, 4.05am. Beep beep beep beeeeeeeeeeep. The cat lifted her head from the duvet and gave me a slightly confused and decidedly annoyed look. “Jeez woman,
Christmas Thank You’s July, August, September… where does time go? … December. Almost exactly six months ago I crossed the line of a half distance triathlon in Northern France.
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
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
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