If you wanted to, you would

Last year sometime, I was complaining to a colleague that I didn't have the time or the money to go back home to England enough. His response took me aback. Rather than join in with my whole "it sucks"-fest, he said to me: "If you wanted to go, you would."

My first response to this is defensive, no you don't understand, I have no time, NO money etc etc blah blah. But when I thought about it, he was completely right. I could take the time, I could find the money, I could go alone and not take my daughter, I could go for the weekend, I could fly to a different airport. If I really, really wanted to go more often, I would. It's just that I have other things that I want MORE.

And I realized just how wise this statement is. You can apply it to almost anything in life. How often do we, as runners or triathletes for example, hear people say "Oh I could never do that". Actually, you could. And if you wanted to, you would. Whether it's a first triathlon, a 5 km, a marathon, an ironman, an ultra, a cross channel swim or a trip to the North Pole, if you really, really wanted to, you would.

After all, people have finished Ironman triathlons with no legs and with terminal cancer.

Speak another language? Become a great guitar player? Lose 5 stone? Move to another country? Meet a certain celebrity? Write a book? If you really wanted to, you would. I know people who have done all these things, because they wanted to. They decided not to worry about problems or other people's opinions or the consequences, and they just did it. That's what happens when you really want something.

True, if I wanted to be a ballerina, the pope or a catwalk model, these things are probably not going to happen no matter how much I want them. (I don't!) And anything involving other people's choices is a little tricky too; really, really wanting someone to like and approve of you seems to have the totally opposite effect. (Dammit!)

But most things, if you really want to, you will. Somehow. If you don't find a way, then you didn't really want it. Does what you're working towards right now feel right, or are you working towards what you think you should want? Am I working towards what I think I should want?

Deciding you really want something is not just the first step. It's the only step. But it isn't a brain-decision, it's a heart-and-soul-decision. It has to be the truth. Nothing else works.

I'm working on separating what I should want, what other people want me to want, what I think other people will think about what I want, the obstacles in the way of what I want….from what I really want. I'll know when I know.

Right now, I want lunch...

All work and no play...

...makes for a very dull blog.

Work is eating me alive. Managing to run but little else. I don't clean my house, I don't cycle or swim, I hardly see my daughter. It is crap. Working full time is cack cack cack.

On the positive side, I have decided to run the Luzern marathon in October, and I have found some swimming lessons (although I have to work out how to actually get to them - who the hell runs adult swimming lessons at lunchtime?)

Other than that, life is cack.

The end.

Bearing it in mind

"It must be borne in mind that the tragedy of life doesn't lie in not reaching your goal. The tragedy lies in having no goal to reach. It isn't a calamity to die with dreams unfulfilled, but it is a calamity not to dream. It is not a disaster to be unable to capture your ideal, but it is a disaster to have no ideal to capture. It is not a disgrace not to reach the stars, but it is a disgrace to have no stars to reach for. Not failure, but low aim is a sin." (Benjamin E Mays)

Sometimes, if you ask the right questions, life answers them in ways you never imagined.

Since the triathlon was over a couple of weeks ago, I felt a little bit directionless. I achieved a goal that’s been in the back of my mind for something like 20 years. Now, my mind is full of questions about what next. Another sprint? Go up a distance and do an Oly? This summer? Next summer? Sometime? Never? Should I really try the half-Ironman? How can I afford it? Maybe I should just hang up my swim suit and my bike and concentrate on the cheaper, simpler sport of running, which I know I can actually do.

But everytime I decided “This is it, I can’t afford you, silly, snobby, expensive triathlon, go away, I’m just going to run, so there”, it felt wrong. In my heart, I want to learn to swim well, I want to learn to bike fast, and I want to Go Long.

Yesterday, when I went alone for a run, it felt amazing. I felt amazing. I LOVE running, but even as I was running, I was thinking “I want to do the half-ironman next June. I know I can’t afford it, I can’t afford the entry fee, I can’t afford the equipment and my husband will KILL me, but I want to do it.” And I put the question out there, should I do it?

This morning, out-of-the-blue, I got an instant message from my already-half-ironwoman colleague. It said “I really want you to do the half ironman with me next year, and I will pay your entry fee. You can pay me back whenever.”

My reply, after “!!!!!!!!!!!!!” was “YES and I’ll pay you back and THANK YOU!”

What AMAZING friends I have!

Later on, I actually typed the phrase “borne in mind” into Google (for obscure work-related reasons) and up popped the above quote. I laughed at the delicious serendipity and realized that I had my answer. Not once, but twice.

My plan arrived fully formed in my mind. I'm going to concentrate on running races for the rest of this year, and meanwhile work on improving my swimming and biking in a relaxed, non-pressured kind of way. Then in January, I'll start training for 70.3. I have had a big smile on my face all day long. When you've made a decision in your heart, you know it's the right decision because it feels like freedom.

By the way, Life, while you're at it, could you answer my other questions too? You know the ones. But in your own good time, of course. I'll wait.

Burning thighs in Basel

Earlier this week, filled with enthusiasm after last week's race, I emailed my local triathlon club. Their website is a little intimidating, because they have a list of prerequisites that you have to meet before you can train with them - you have to be able to:

• Swim 1ooo m in 22 minutes
  
• Run at least one hour
• Cycle for at least 2-3 hours easily

This didn't strike me as particularly beginner-friendly, so I emailed and explained that there's no way I can swim 1 km in 22 minutes (and could they recommend a swim coach) but could I come along for bike or run and see how things go? So this morning I was invited to join them for the Saturday morning ride.

The weather is hideous this weekend, cold and pouring with rain, and there were only 5 people who showed up - including me and the club president. There was only one other woman and they were all wearing full club kit and riding pretty good bikes. Then there was me in my old trainers and with my 25 year old tourer. They all spoke only Swiss-German too, which I actually considered an advantage as I really want to meet more locals. Two of the guys went off as the "fast" group and I went with the woman and club president in the "slow" group.

I sort of had a good time. I've never cycled with other people and I thoroughly enjoyed that aspect of it. The ride was long for me, and there were some very tough hills for my poxy 10 gears. We cycled over 50 km in 2 and a half hours, through 3 Swiss Kantons and 2 French departements (counties) in cold, pouring rain and driving winds. I loved the challenge, but I was clearly struggling and it was an effort to keep up. Some not-so-subtle comments were made about my bike. At the end of the ride the president asked me how I'd found it, and said that this had been a slow, easy ride and if there had been more people, it would have been a lot faster. He told me to come along to the running session on Monday evening to "see". By the time I was back at my house, thighs burning like never before, I had decided not to go on Monday.

Yes, I want to ride hard and run hard, but I also want to have fun and I don't want to make huge commitments which I can't keep, due to working long hours AND being a mum. There's just no escaping the fact that triathlon is expensive and time-consuming, and several noises have been made by The Husband that suggest he will not be too happy with more. Just how much can I push it? How much time and energy and money do I want to give?

I'm a little disappointed by how it worked out, but tomorrow I'm running and climbing, with good friends, and things will look different.

Zuri triathlon - short distance - a RACE REPORT

So, I did it! My first triathlon is under my belt, I loved it (in retrospect!), and I'm totally ready for more. It was NOT a breeze though, it turned out to be much harder than I was expecting. i went into it a bit blasé. At some points during the race I decided it was the worst time of my life and I would NEVER do this hideousness EVER AGAIN. Ha!

My husband has now banned me from mentioning the T-word, the I-word or the R-word in his presence (I'm sure you can guess what they are!) but that's why I have a blog, right?

Writing race reports is hard work! I was composing things in the middle of the race, but somehow don't seem to remember all the witty comments afterwards, so here goes....

Pre-race
I caught the train with my bike with no problems and arrived in Zürich. Once there, I needed to go first to the race site, by the lake, to pick up my race pack. I decided to walk and immediately got lost. I ended up spending a fair amount of time that day walking and cycling round Zürich, all the while carrying my heavy backpack, which was possibly suboptimal race preparation.

Once I found the race site, it was exhilerating. I had forgotten that on the Sunday, the day after my race, Ironman Switzerland was taking place. As soon as I got in the vicinity of the lake I started to see lots of buff men (surprisingly few women) riding divine bikes and I even spotted my first ever M-dot tattoo (I tried to surreptitiously take a photograph but the guy wouldn't keep still) . The race site was huge, I was kind of expecting a tent and some portaloos, but this was more like a rock festival. I picked up my race pack, checked out the transition area, mooched round the Expo and then sat by the lake and watched people.

I felt simultaneously proud and very intimidated to be in the company of all these amazingly athletic people. I felt so totally unprepared, while everyone else seemed confident and knowing exactly what they were doing. Never have I seen such a collection of amazing-looking people or gorgeous bikes. And I have to say that female triathletes must be the sexiest women in the world. Definitely some of the best people-watching time I have ever spent. I had to drag myself away, I could have stayed there for hours just soaking up the atmosphere.

But it was time to head over to my friend's flat, where I was spending the night. I made a huge hooha of trying to buy the correct ticket for the tram, and then another big hooha trying to get my bike actually onto the tram (Basel trams have a lower area where you can easily take pushchairs and bikes on and off - most Zürich trams don't and you have to haul your pushchair or bike up the steep steps. Another reason why Basel is way better than Zürich). I ended up in everyone's way, covered in bike grease and feeling extremely silly. Not very triathlete-y at all. In all the dippiness, I lost the ticket I had bought for my bike, and ended up cycling half the way anyway.

I finally made it though, and I had a really fun evening catching up with my friend, and she cooked some delicious pasta and sent me off to bed at 10.30. What a star!

I slept well - except for a classic anxiety dream involving public nudity and my PhD supervisor - and woke up at 5.30 before my alarm went off. I crept around the flat and was out of the door by 6. I had decided to cycle to the race site, to save messing around with the trams again, and luckily I didn't get lost this time. Once I got to the site, I was really feeling my inexperience and dearly wished that I was not on my own. The race packet contained several numbers, but no instructions on where to put them. I basically spied on everyone else to see what they had done with theirs. It was pretty cool that my race number had "Charlotte" on it, but I was seriously disappointed that there was no body marking! I wanted to be body marked!! I checked my bike in, found my spot and set up transition. I didn't take long to set it up - I felt as though I should spend longer, but I really couldn't find anything else to do. And it felt strange to abandon my bike, race number and all the rest of my possessions in the transition area.

The start
Because I was so unsure of myself, I was ready way, way too early and hung around in my trisuit getting really cold and working myself up for a good 45 minutes. I wanted to watch the earlier waves do the swim start so I knew what to do and where to swim. I was really scared of not knowing where to go and getting lost (this turned out to be a completely unwarranted fear!). I was so nervous, I thought I would actually explode. I wasn't nervous about the distances, or finishing or anything like that, just that I didn't have any clue what I was doing. I felt like I was about to do a vital exam in a subject I'd forgotten to study for. I tried to stay in the moment and enjoy the experience, but I was supercharged.

The waves were 10 minutes apart and mine was the 4th to go. I had a quick dunk in the lake, and then we all stood on the beach waiting. The gun went off and the tape was lifted and we all charged into the water.


The swim
500 m: 15 min 21 sec

Do we even have to talk about this? It was HORRIBLE. I was expecting it to suck, but not how much it totally sucked. I was totally over-hyped and threw myself enthusiastically into the water and began swimming. I felt great and then suddenly, something happened. I was surrounded by women and I couldn't go anywhere. I was stuck. There was a bottleneck and people around me and in front of me began swimming breaststroke and so did I. And I there was NOWHERE TO GO and I started to panic. I didn't feel scared, but I couldn't catch my breath, I was hyperventilating and gasping. Everytime I tried to swim crawl again, I would get a wave in my face and start to panic. I confess that I ended up swimming breaststroke for a fair bit of the race, which really pissed me off after all that training, not that my crawl is much faster than my breaststroke, but anyway. I was at the back by this point, with all the slower swimmers, and everytime I began to swim crawl I would crash into someone in front and get into the "nowhere to go" situation again. It took me until two thirds through, to begin to calm down, get myself into a bit of space and swim a bit more crawl. I think if the swim had been a bit longer, I might have got myself into a bit of rhythm and enjoyed it a bit more, but I was very, very, very glad to get out of the damn water.

T1: 2 min 15 sec

The bike
20 km: 39 min 48 sec

I was freezing cold and shaking when I got back to transition and I just couldn't calm my breathing down. I was quick in transition, and thought that if I could start cycling, I would feel better. People were flying past me - it seemed like hundreds of people. The bike course was a two lap course along the very straight, flat road by the lake. With all the athletes from all the waves on it at the same time, it was very crowded. The drafting rules were ridiculous, because you were pretty much always less than 7 m from another other rider. At this point, I was thinking how much I would never, ever, EVER do this again. No swimming and no cycling. Nope, no way, not ever. It took me at least 5 km before I began to feel ok, calm myself and enjoy the ride. Then I began to ride pretty hard and even passed a couple of people. I felt much more positive and the race began to seem like fun. Maybe I would consider doing this again, just maybe.

The best part of the ride was when I heard my name being called and saw that two of my friends had come all the way from Basel to support me, unexpectedly. I was so touched. They even had a sign with my name on, and they took some great photos too. Superstars!

T2: 1 min 34 sec

The run
5 km: 25 min 32 sec!!!!!

The run was one of the best experiences of my life. Absolutely. I felt strong and fast and fired up. I was finally warm and my nose finally stopped running, and I was finally doing something I actually felt confident about. I KNOW how to run. I was passing and passing and passing people. All my bike-run bricks have been done on hills because of where we live (I have the most hideously hilly 5 km training circuit you can imagine), and this course was totally flat. It felt easy. In fact, if I'd known how fast my time was, I would have pushed harder because I had plenty left at the end.

The results show that after the bike leg, I was in 66th place (out of 75). By the end of the run, I'd moved up to 56th. I had the 66th placed swim time, 68th bike (Ack!) and the 24th fastest run!

I wasn't too disappointed with my swim time - I expected to be one of the slowest - but I'm a little disappointed with my bike. I did take the first quarter of the 20 km very easy, and I guess that's when I lost all the time. But my run? I'm absolutely blown away!!

Post-race

Finish time: 1 hour 24 min 32.5

The finish line was a little weird, because once you ran under the clock, there was just a dead end. I wasn't even sure I'd actually finished until a guy came and tore the strip off my number. I felt a surge of pride as I came round the final bend and my friend was taking photos and I thought "I've done it"! I didn't have the post-race euphoria I was expecting though. Maybe all the nervousness drained me more than I realized, but I just felt a little flat. Not having my husband and daughter there felt a little sad. My friends were amazing and enthusiastic, and I am overwelmed by the support I got from them all. Even better, Sarah was mumbling something about maybe having a go herself next year....

I'm glad I got a finishers shirt and some pictures, because it all seems so surreal now. I'm not entirely sure it really happened. I do know for sure that I'm itching to have another go, this time knowing what to expect and without all the uncertainty and awkwardness. For so long, I've been working up to this one day, and now it's over, I feel like I need something else to focus on. And there's a little voice in my head that's saying "you could be good at this, you could go faster". Evil voice!

What I learned for next time!

- First and most importantly, there WILL be a next time!
- Take more food and drink with me, and spend the time before the race staying calm, and warm.
- If possible, I'd like to have someone else with me, it was horrible doing this all totally alone. I felt really awkward. This will feel better next time though, now I'm not such a noob.
- Aim for a steady, calm swim! I was so nervous and so excited and so scared that I went off like a bat-out-of-hell. I was relying on the adrenaline at the start to help me with the swim, but in fact, it had the opposite effect.

- START AT THE EDGE OF THE PACK AND FIND SOME SPACE! I've read it a million times, and now I know why. Maybe it's something you have to learn for yourself…

- I really do need a wetsuit so I don't get so cold, and I need to get as much experience of swimming in open water as possible. The waves totally freaked me out.
- I need to look for some swim coaching, otherwise I'm wasting so much energy on the swim
- I need to get on the bike and be up and at it straightaway, not 5 km later.
- I was so cold and shaken following the swim, next time I would take a little more time in transition to BREATHE and calm down. My transition times were really fast, and I could have taken it a little more calmly. Basically the overriding message here is to calm down!
- I need to train more on the bike to increase my power and get faster.

- I can be confident enough to push much harder on both the bike and run. An evil little voice is telling me that with better training maybe I could be quite fast.

- It would be great to train more and with company, maybe I should get over my fear and join a triclub? Hmmm.

YEEEEESSSSSSSSSS!

My first triathlon is officially behind me.
Total time: 1 hour 24 min

Quick summary - swim was awful, bike was good, run was AMAZING.

During the swim I swore I'd NEVER do this again, but by the end (of course) I was planning what I'll do differently NEXT TIME.

Race report will follow. Right now, I'm back at work trying to remember what the hell it is I actually do.

Pre-race - Züri triathlon short distance

So, this is it. In an hour or so I'll head off, pick up my bike from the bike repair shop (this is called cutting it fine) and catch a train to Zürich.

I'm not really nervous, it doesn't really feel real yet, that this time tomorrow I'll have finished my first triathlon and ticked an almost-lifelong goal off my list. Mostly I'm worried about the logistics - finding my way around Zürich, picking up my number, hoping my bike is ok, getting there in time tomorrow to check in. I just want to be there now, everything sorted, and at the start. I'm so ready to GO!

The sad thing is that my husband and daughter won't be there tomorrow to cheer me on, or take pictures. So I'll be going it alone, unless my friend Sarah (who I'm staying with tonight) plans to come there with me.

I don't really feel on top form, or as fit as I would like. Trips to England are a bit of an emotional rollarcoaster and never very relaxing. I spent the hours that Federer took to beat Roddick cleaning, polishing, rust removing and giving my bike some love. She actually looks pretty cool now, in a vintage kind of way. I have not had any practice swimming in open water, in fact, I haven't been swimming at all for almost two weeks. But it'll be fine! I really hope everything comes together at the right time for tomorrow.

My goals for tomorrow? I have no idea, really no idea, what my times will be. My ambitions are only to finish, to enjoy the experience and to give my all. I hope I love it, I hope I get bitten by the bug, I hope I want to come back for more!

OK, I lied, I'm completely nervous! Here goes....

Next stop England

Things I should be doing right now...finish packing, clean house, make sure everything's in order, online check in, blah blah. What I'm actually doing, obviously, is reading blogs and writing my own. Oh well.

I've had a great couple of days, no work, just me to please. On Monday I did a kind of race test run. Cycled to the pool near where I work, around 7 km, swam 2 sets of 500 m, cycled home and then went out for a 5 km run. My transitions were pretty long, around 10 and 5 mins or so, but it gave me a great idea of how it's really going to feel. That 5 km run was tough and my legs were on fire. It was really slow too, 30 minutes. I really talked myself around it. Felt great to drench myself in the fountain at the end.

I'm so excited about crossing that finish line. This gave me a lot of confidence that I'm going to finish and finish ok.

Yesterday morning I had planned a lighter day, but of course, it didn't work out like that. It was a gorgeous morning and I decided to do a light, easy ride out to Liestal. Apart from finding myself heading down to the motorway at one point and having to do a crazy U-turn, the ride to Liestal was perfect. It's really flat and 90% on no- or very light- traffic roads. There are long, straight stretches where you can just peddle and peddle. I got up a fairly good speed even on my mountain bike.

Then I reached Liestal and saw a sign saying "Gelterkinden 11 km" and I thought how great it would be to make it to Gelterkinden. That's where things went a bit hairy. First, I got horribly lost trying to get across Liestal and somehow ended up going up two very steep hills - possibly the only two hills in the whole town - and going round in circles before finally finding the little red bike route signs again.





It was about 11.30 by this time and getting very hot. My sexy bike/running shorts tan line was getting ever more intense, and I needed to get back home in time to shower and pick my daughter up at 2 o'clock. I realised I didn't have time to get to Gelterkinden, and turned around at Sissach, just 4 km short.

Guess what, I got horribly lost in Liestal AGAIN on the way back. Is this my poor navigating or their bad signposting? I circled the station 3 times getting hotter and crosser. I was very happy to find the route back to Basel again and hammer home as fast as possible. Total distance was around 50 km, which is the furthest I've ever ridden. I realised that as I'm picking my old road bike up in England, this was probably (hopefully) the last time I'd do a road ride on my mountain bike. I think it was a good send off.



I took my daughter to the swimming pool in the afternoon and splashed about in the kids pool with her, very grateful not to have to actually swim.

This afternoon we're flying to England, which is always a bitter-sweet trip for me. There's so much about it that I miss, even though I love where I live now. Looking forward to seeing some good friends, getting a few rides in on my road bike (remembering how to cycle on the left!) and some SHOPPING. I'll be online though, don't worry about that!

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.

Six weeks to go!

So it's only six weeks to go until my first triathlon and I am so excited today that I am jumping out of my skin.

First, of course, I have fab, HOT hair and I'm secretly loving the attention. And finally, finally, everything seems to be coming together in the nick of time.

Swim - I've been swimming twice this week and it went so much better. Something has clicked a bit more and I managed 1000m yesterday without huffing and puffing like a smoker running for the bus. I realised I was subconsciously focusing on using my arms to keep my head up, rather than using them to move forwards. It's still very hit and miss - I get it for a few strokes and then it all breaks down again. But now I sort of know what it should feel like, I can use that feeling. I'm still slow - yesterday this guy in the lane next to me was doing this crazy double-armed backstroke splashing stroke, and he was still going almost at the same speed as me. I choose to believe that the speed will come by itself if I work on my technique....

Bike - my road bike is in the bike shop as we speak getting a service, new tyres and all that jazz. Going to over to the UK at the beginning of July, and will bring it back with me.

Run - I'm actually trying to ease off on my running and do shorter, faster runs. Today, the work inter-departmental relay, which is perfect speed practice as I'm running a 4 km leg.

Another long weekend coming up. I won't have much time, so I'm planning 2 swims and a bike/run brick.

Hair!

Had hair cut! I love it!! But I am slightly in shock...

My new BFF

Here she is, my old girl. A little bit past her best, not very fashionable, and in need of some good lovin'. We have a lot in common the two of us.

At the moment it's a bit of a long distance relationship, she's in England, I'm in Switzerland. But I know we can make it work.

She's been neglected and lonely for many years, just waiting for me to come back and get her. Ooh baby, it's time.


(photo credits: my mum)