What a difference a day makes....

I did a 30 km bike ride and a 600 m swim this morning and it felt really good. I haven't been speaking to my mountain bike for a while, not since I found out that getting my old road bike from England could be a reality. Then I looked at my training log and saw I hadn't done an actual bike ride (as opposed to cycling to somewhere) since May. Oops, better get some miles in my legs. And I will never, however long I live here, stop getting a kick from cycling to different countries. This morning it was the turn of Germany. I've wanted to cycle out to Lörrach for ages but never quite gotten around to it.

(This will have to be a quick, random and unedited update because my daughter just woke up and is telling me "I'm waiting mummy".)

I didn't take a map because I thought I know how to get to Lörrach, forgetting that I've only been there once and that was on the tram. But it's a just a straight, flat road through Riehen, right? So why was I suddenly cycling up a big, old, hill. And, whoops, that's Lörrach way down there...



(I didn't take this picture, but judging by Google, it looks like I accidently ended up in THE spot to take pictures of Lörrach.)

I left home at 9.40, and promised to be back before 11, so we could all go to the swimming pool. But I kept getting lost. In Basel, in Riehen and finally in Lörrach.

At 10.18 I had only just crossed the border and should have turned round and headed home, but I wanted to soak up the feeling of being in Germany for a while.




When I have more time, I'm planning a three-country ride that takes me from Switzerland into Germany and France. Knowing how over-excited these things make me, I might just explode.

Anyway, made it home at 11.07, grabbed swimming kit and headed back out on the bike to St Jakobs for a decent, quick swim. Didn't drown.



I'm a little over-excited today. It was one of those days when I just love Basel, I love living here and I love triathlon because it has opened up my world so much...but I don't have time to write about that today. All I can say is that I was still up to cycling and swimming and it felt great, my confidence is back!

I am so excited and nervous and happy and terrified! How am I going to make it through the next 13 days until I actually get to Zürich? I really am going to do a triathlon in 2 weeks, really, really, really (barring disaster). I have wanted to do a triathlon for so many years, ever since I first heard that the sport existed. But I never thought I'd have the willpower or persistance or courage or balls to actually do it.

And now here I am, actually doing it. Incredible!

Slacker!

Last night I had a crazy dream about my fast-approaching triathlon. One of those dreams where everyone is explaining everything in Swiss-German and I can't understand anything even though it's vital that I do (not an unusual occurrence around here), and then it all went wrong and I lost count of my lengths in the pool (even though it's an open water swim) and couldn't find my bike and was wearing the wrong clothes….you get the picture.

Anyway, I realized that, holy crap, it's 2 and half weeks to the race and I'm somehow NOT doing any training. What happened?

First we went to Luzern, which was only last week but feels like months ago. It was FABULOUS!! Really, really amazingly good. Yes, the trip I was so worried and nervous about! There was a lot of incredibly good food - honestly, I can't rave enough about the food - and drinking and an utterly luxurious hotel with a view over the lake and glorious weather, and far too much girlie-giggling. And a little bit of work!

The view from my window in one direction:

and looking out over the city and Pilatus in the other:

Proof that I wore a dress!

Then my mum visited and it was her birthday, so there was more eating and more drinking and more good times.

And there was some major stress to do with my daughter's passport, which is hopefully all sorted now.

Then there's work, which is eating a lot of my time right now because I have my eyes fixed on a better position. And some fun family stuff, like ballet performances (on a Sunday morning???) and Kindergarten visits....time is sucked into a black hole, never to be seen again.

But training, hmm, not so much. I didn't manage to swim in Lake Luzern, but I did manage to go out for a run round the lake while I was there.

Since I got back, I've only managed ONE RUN. ARGHGHGHGHGH. I've completely fallen out of any kind of routine and lost my momentum. It's too early to claim to be tapering (do you even need to taper for a sprint?). I need to get back into it, because if I've learned anything this year it's that getting out there for a run, bike or swim is what sorts my head out and lets me find out what it is that I really want.

Only today and tomorrow at work and then I'm on holiday for 2 weeks. Time to get my triathlete mojo back on.

"Fun" soccer tournament - the pictures!

So here they are, the pics from the Fun Soccer Tournament (as they called it). I have to say that I didn't actually find it very "fun". Playing soccer is not like riding a bike, and surprise surprise, after six years, I found it hard going. A lot of the guys playing were very good and took it very seriously. I felt slow and out of it. I even had one fabulous moment where I went to kick the ball and fell over it instead. At least this will amuse my husband for years to come....

There were eight teams in two pools, put together at random. There were a couple of very good women, but most of the females looked like they had never kicked a ball in their lives. We played all the other teams in our pool - 3 matches in all - and then the top two teams played each other in a final, and the two second placed teams played each other for third place.

I hit the post in our first match and that was totally my best moment of the day, I never came close again. Goals scored by women counted double, so my teammates expected me to goal-hang, which goes against my every (midfielder-) instinct.

The whole way through, I felt like I almost could play, but the reactions and instincts were missing. I ended up either a) not being in quite the right place, b) pulling back from the action in fear of cocking things up or c) being in the right place AND going for the ball and then, cocking up. It was a frustrating experience, and watching the girl who won the "Best Woman" award made me feel my age - that used to be me, and now, it's not. In retrospect, I can say I enjoyed myself, but at the time, I didn't. My mum will say I'm being too hard on myself, but really, I'm not. I didn't expect to be as good as I was 10 years ago, but I did hope it would all come back to me once I was back on the pitch again. I guess it doesn't work like that!

Here are the pictures for your amusement - you can enlarge them by clicking....

This is a picture from one of our pool games - that's me all in black on the left - as usual very far away from the action:




It looks like I may actually be going for the ball in this one:



After we scored against the red-bibbed people in the third-place play off:




Between matches with hubby and daughter:




My action shots! These are all official photos, up on the company intranet, aargh!
Look at the determination on my face - I don't do this for fun, you know, it's serious.

This is my favourite, because I look like I'm actually going to get past him:

Sunshine, swimming, sweating and stressing

What a fabulous week it has been, topped off by a perfect weekend.
2 gorgeous runs, 2 decent swims, soccer, climbing and cycling to and from everywhere.

I know you all want to hear about the soccer tournament, but I'm waiting for some pictures before I post about that. It was a fairly humbling experience for me, but fun in retrospect, and best of all my husband and daughter were there to watch. I hit the post in the first match, and that was as close as I got to scoring. Despite my lack of contribution, my team came third, which is what I will choose to dwell on....

On Saturday morning I woke up suffering hugely from the unaccustomed sudden movements and twists and turns of playing soccer. I was hurting so much! Probably this wasn't helped by the fact that my "recovery" after the very sweaty games involved several beers and no water. Oops. I creaked and groaned my way around, bravely tackling four loads of laundry and attempting (fairly unsuccessfully) to gain some control over the warzone that is our apartment.

In the afternoon the whole family headed off to the pool, and I watched my daughter SWIM FOR THE FIRST TIME!! She's basically taught herself to swim underwater, and can swim a good five metres before she has to come up for air. Now we're trying to teach her to hold her head above the water. By the end of the summer, I think she'll be out-swimming me!

Then I headed off for my own laps, and how wonderful it was to finally swim in the heated pool. The first 300 m were hideous, and I almost gave up. I was gasping for breath, panicking, swallowing water and losing it. I had to talk myself through it and tell myself to calm down, breathe out, find my own rhythm. Then, I found that lovely place where I get into a rhythm and I actually almost enjoy it. My strategy for the race is to breathe only to the left - I know this is technically not-so-good, but as soon as I try to breathe bilaterally, it all falls apart - and let myself swim some breaststroke if I start to hyperventilate. I have plenty of time over the next year to train bilateral breathing (and get some lessons, ha!). Right now, it's all about confidence in the water and being able to relax. I don't have to be perfect, I don't even have to look good, I just have to swim 500 m, survive and get to the bike. This is my swimming mantra now - just get through it.

On Saturday night, ate gazpacho, got bitten all over by a manic mosquito, and watched silly TV before falling into bed. It must have been silly, because I can't for the life of me remember anything that we watched.

On Sunday morning I should have cleaned the house some more and sorted out stuff out, but I was knackered. Just bone tired. I had no idea how I was going to get myself to the climbing hall and climb with my friend. Coffee, porridge and a walk to loosen my legs up, and I started to feel a little better. Headed off to the wall and got in some cool climbs in the incredibly hot and sweaty hall. Afterwards I cycled off to the pool again, to meet the husband and the daughter. Don't worry, there was no way I was going to swim any laps after that climbing session. It was all I could to jump in the kids' pool and cool off.

So it was a glorious weekend of sun and swimming and family-time. Now it's a rainy, dark Monday and I am a bag of nerves. Off to Luzern for the off-site tomorrow. Did I mention how much this makes my anxiety levels freak out? Yeah, my rational mind tells me that I'm looking forward to seeing Luzern. And I have been whinging about not being able to get away from Basel for the past 6 months and so surely a break will do me good. Right. That's my rational mind. So why do I just wish I could stay in my nice safe home with my nice safe routines and cuddle my daughter?

Well, screw you Mr Anxiety (anxiety is definitely a guy, don't ask me why). It's about time I had a chance to relax and have some fun. It's just like swimming. I don't need to be perfect, I don't even have to look good, I just have to survive. I just have to get through it. And I will. So there.

Swimtastic Friday

It's amazing what a GOOD SWIM can do for a girl's mood. Today is a great day because

• I had a good swim yesterday. 1200 m including 500 m (race distance) without a pause. It was so cold and the wind was so strong, the swimming pool had waves. That just made it more satisfying. Maybe this will break my mental block.


• After a couple of manic weeks at work, things have eased off and I may get to take the afternoon off and lie in the sunshine.


• I am playing soccer this evening and I fully intend to win the prize for "Best woman".


• I'm going to the climbing wall on Sunday for the first time in months.


• My daughter was accepted at the Kindergarten that we wanted and so were her best friends.


• My mum is coming to visit next week!


• It's Friday!! Tomorrow I can sleeeeeeeeeeep!


• According to a very in-depth and intellectual quiz on Facebook I am 0% girly.

• Just four weeks to go....

Brass monkeys

Next week is my department's annual off-site meeting. These are not things I look forward to particularly, I get horribly nervous about the whole deal. But this year, I have something other than my strange social anxiety issues to focus on.

We're going to Luzern. Not only is this my first visit to Luzern, but check out our hotel.

What's that in front of the hotel. Yep, that's a big, beautiful lake.

And...you can swim in it.

Although at 18 degrees, it's going to be a little on the chilly side. (My apologies for stealing this photo, whoever you are, you look pretty cold too).

So, do you think anyone will notice if I sneak off for my first open water swimming experience? I'll just have to find a willing accomplice. Maybe open water is exactly the antidote I need to my lap-swimming mental block (thinking positive).

I'll be packing my swimsuit first, my running kit second and my work clothes sometime after that.

Back to today, and I really need to go swimming. It's very windy and cold out there. Should have gone yesterday, when it was warm and sunny, but I decided to go for a run instead. Gah. I don't need any extra excuses to NOT swim. If I can stand the cold, I might have the pool to myself, but the downside to that is that the lifeguard watches my every move. Ah, swimming, how I do not love you.

Nothing much to say about training at the moment. I'm fitting in what I can, mostly running. My bike is feeling sad and lonely, and time seems to slip by in a haze of work and sleep. Can't wait for holidays...just 2 weeks to go!

365 to 70.3

So yesterday was the Rapperswil-Jona Half Ironman, which I intend doing in 2010. I don't usually like to plan things more than a few months ahead, because I always assume I won't be alive. I know, weird. Anyway, 70.3 miles is something you need to plan for in advance, no matter how much it freaks you out. I'm already thinking about what I need to focus on over the summer and over the off-season.

I will turn 35 years old in six months time, a birthday which for some reason is hanging heavy over me. It feels like halfway. But what better way to celebrate halfway to 70 than training for a half-ironman, right? And often, I feel like I'm only just beginning and everything that has happened so far was only the preparation for this moment, right now. My life rocks, when I let it.

In the meantime, it's five weeks to go until I lose my tri-virginity. I didn't train much over the weekend, just two 5 km runs and a very cold swim which made me so tired, I took a 2-hour nap. Ah, bliss! A neighbour looked very confused when she saw me go up to my bike, pat her on the saddle and explain that I didn't feel like taking her out really.

Am I going to swim in the unheated pool again today, even though it feels like winter outside? Probably, cos it really does make me feel like I'm a badass!

Bend it like Shazza

I saw these incredibly cool pictures of Natasha Kai earlier, and it reminded me that in a rash moment, I signed up for my company's annual soccer tournament next Friday. I haven't played football for more than 6 years! And I am so looking forward to it, cos damn, I used to love playing and I miss it.

(I use the terms soccer and football interchangeably in this post - if you're american, I'm talking about soccer...)

When I was in my second year of primary school, the girls had to sew while the boys went out to play football. It didn't help me much, I still can't sew. But I can play football. I didn't start to play until I was at university, but once I began, I knew I'd found a sport that rocked my world. I loved everything about it....I loved the smell of the grass and the mud; I loved going out to play on frozen pitches on foggy Sunday mornings; I loved arguing with stupid men who told me that "girls can't play football"; I loved the kit, the boots, the shin pads, the shirt; I loved the passion and the release; I loved the women who I played with, because I'd finally found women who were a bit like me.

I played best on the right wing. I was fast, I was vicious and I never gave up. If I lost the ball, I would chase it down until I won it again. I would run until I couldn't run anymore, I was proud of every bruise and I inflicted a few too.

Somehow playing football allowed me to express parts of myself that I'd always felt were inappropriate and unacceptable. I could get angry, passionate, aggressive, dangerous...and take it all out on the ball. Score a goal, make a tackle, win a match...and all that pent-up energy and emotion can just pour out of you.

It was also a way of sticking my finger up at society's expectations of what a woman should be. Female soccer players shout, scream, and sweat. They clench fists. They have muscles. They have passion. They have balls. They don't sew. They kick ass.

In 2003, I got pregnant and moved to Portugal, and that was the end of my playing days. These days, I can't to commit to spending every Sunday playing matches and two nights a week training, even though I've been tempted. Coaching is something I'd love to do though, especially a girls' team. When I began playing, I was already 20, and women's teams were still few and far between in England. Very few girls had played football as children. By the time I stopped, that had changed completely, many girls had played at school and as a result, the standard of women's football has risen incredibly. If I'd been born 10 years later, or even 5, there would have been so many more opportunities.

One of my favourite parts of football match days was getting dressed, pulling on my jersey and shorts, pulling up my socks, lacing up my boots. As well as the nerves and adrenaline, there was a real joy. As I put on my football clothes, I could stop playing a role and just be myself. Out there on the pitch, everything else fades away and that's where I felt most at home and most alive.

Maybe this is what I'm looking for with this triathlon, to show that I'm still Shazza. That I still have that passion and that drive. I need to prove that to myself, I need to believe it.

Anyway, just because I can, here are some of my favourite football pictures. Natasha Kai, Marta, Karen Carney (twice) and Brandy Chastain all totally alive, totally kicking ass, living the passion:

Toasted Shazza

Ack, work has been so busy and so annoying this week, and I'm so glad it's Friday. Haven't had time to blog but I have managed to squeeze in training, I had to, or I would have gone crazy. But my poor body, I'm asking it to do so much and treating it so badly. I guess that's why I'm so tired.

A quick recap of the week: I did a great bike/run brick last Sunday morning - very mini, 20 km on the bike and a 2 km run. Tuesday and Wednesday I went out running, mostly because that's where I release my frustrations and have the space to think about everything. I can turn my iPod up loud and sing (if no one is around!). Yesterday lunchtime I went for a crappy swim. Swimming is becoming my least favourite thing to do, it's just so frustrating. Today I forgot my running kit, and just couldn't face another cold, frustrating swim, so it's looking like a rest day unless I squeeze a run in this evening.

Just have to get through this afternoon. I've had it with this week, I'm toast.