Happy New Year to One and All!!!

So, true to form, I was completely disorganised this year. I didn't send out nearly as many cards as I'd wished and I say it every year....yet with each year I seem to be less and less able to get my act together!! So I feigned social responsibility and environmental consciousness and wished most people an electronic Happy Christmas, or posted on Facebook. Lazy cow. As it was, I was really looking forward to Christmas this year, which we spent with my family in Dorset and I wasn't disappointed. We had a really lovely time, and the Boy braved the full family onslaught, coming out unscathed!!

I gave myself a Christmas present in the form of the first half decent ergo score in years. JPM came over to the house last Thursday to witness the test, which we did in our conservatory as it is the easiest place to control the temperature. It's doubling up as an ergo and turbo room, as I have been being precious and not venturing onto the river in the very cold conditions. I think I have worked out that anything under about 4 degrees C and I lose all ability to function normally! I have also worked out that staying out of the grotty weather is the reason why I have thus far remained relatively healthy this winter....although that has probably put a jinx on me now! So I can erg, spin my legs on the bike and wander down to LA Fitness to do weights and any other cross training without fear of going base over apex on the ice or generally getting cold and wet!!

Anyway the score on the door equalled my PB of 7:15, which isn't going to set the world alight, and I know I could have done so much more as my heart rate was not high and I wasn't awash with lactate. I kept it very calm and cirsumspect, as I had started my most recent test on the day of Scullers' Head (which I pulled out of due to the cold) and got to about 400m in before the mushroom cloud happened.....my splits ticked along at 1:48, 1:49....then BOOM, 1:58, 1:59...2:00...I was still cleary holding on to some residual cold symptoms from Turin and I just cut my losses. I wanted to a consistent and steady test, to complete it and overcome the "I am crap" demon, which Jules and I have worked really hard on in our NLP sessions. It is certainly working as the gremlin that sits on my shoulder and tells me how pathetic and unworthy I am gets really squashed!! Overall I am happy with the effort, knowing that I have a few seconds up my sleeve with a simple change in environment (i.e. not on my own in my conservatory, with no race "hype" and fire to give a bit of edge to it all). Combine that with a few more weeks of solid training and we're going to be on a little roll I hope. For the first time in my training life I am looking FORWARDS, not backwards, or even sideways at the people I want to better. I have no control over them. I can only control me and my actions, reactions and choices.

There you have it: a short one today, and my New Year's resolution will be to be more consistent with everything I do. I will hopefully be getting on a few camps in the New Year: cycling with the Boy, to Seville with Mortlake who have kindly offered me a place on their camp and to France with Henley Rowing Club. That will take me nicely to the early summer racing with the three World Cups, the World Championships in Bled and a week later the biggie, the All Africa Games where I aim to qualify for the Olympics. By all accounts the new Zambian Constitution will be going through relatively soon and my fingers, toes and legs are all crossed that the passport situation resolves itself in plenty of time for the Worlds in August. Jules and I did the budget for next year and we both gulped hard...hopefully the sponsorship pitches we have put out there will yield the support that we will need for the coming eighteen months or so of racing and training. If anyone out there knows someone benevolent....

So, a Happy New Year to you all, and health, wealth and happiness in 2011!! Let's make it a good one!!

A little Po-faced.

First off, I’m watching Robson Green and his Extreme Fishing programme whilst writing this (I’m a closet fishing-freak and love all sorts of programmes on the subject...have even had Go Fishing’s John Wilson’s autograph when I bumped into him in the departures lounge at Lusaka Airport) and the funniest line has come out of this Senegalese fishing guide’s mouth: “None of your Geordie hankey pankey, now Robson”. Classic. I love this programme. None of the poncey “Oh, we must think about sustainability" bollocks. No sirree. Catch it. Kill it. Eat it. Probably stuff it if I can’t eat it. But catch bigger, nastier fishies, the more the merrier, and who gives a stuff that none of the people he meets has a dickybird who he is? And before anyone says anything, no I DIDN'T buy the Unchained Melody cover he did with Jerome, and nor did I have a poster of him on my wall when he was in Soldier, Soldier. (OK, I may have had a teeny crush on him, I'll give you that).

So, Turin and the Silver Skiff were a giggle (mostly). Richard and I headed up to Stansted and caught the stupid o’clock Ryanair flight on Saturday morning. I tell thee, I will NEVER fly that sodding airline again. Not only are they super-anal about hand luggage, resulting in a very hot and sweaty tussle with my mini case to get it in and then out (the hard part) of the measuring cage thing, but when they land on time or a bit earlier, this idiotic fanfare plays out over the tannoy. Not to mention the funnel bunfight to board the flight. Honestly, at one point on the return leg I was ready to kill someone. Or at the very least stuff their stupid boarding passes down their pushing in, smelly throats. OK. A bit extreme. But you get my drift!

On landing we got Rich’s bike off the belt and got a cab with Tom Carter from Upper Thames who was racing the Master’s A Single. We plumped for a car big enough to fit the bike box in, but the driver was a little, err, contrary and he wasn’t prepared to try – or listen – and no lie, we ended up with at least 7 Italians all crowding round, babbling away, “problem solving”. In the end we changed taxi and happily our driver was a fellow cyclist, so he and Rich entered into a bit of “what bike do you have” and “how light is it” and “Campag or Shimano” banter on the way to the city centre. Italian drivers are completely insane and we couldn’t work out the road rules, as it appeared there weren’t any. Still, Tom kept our minds off losing our lives on the cobbled streets of Turin by running through his Italian phrase app. Our favourites were “Where can I dance like a nutter til the early hours?” under ‘Nightlife’ and, “Are those real?” under ‘The Beach’.

We weren’t able to go out until the Kinderskiff race was over in the afternoon, so we checked into the hotel and wandered about, getting our bearings and checking the lie of the land. I hadn’t been able to find out what the weight limit was from the Silver Skiff website so we went to regatta control and it turned out that it’s FISA weight (59kg), not “winter lightweight” (61ish kg) like most other head races. Lucky for me I’m OK, but I still needed to be sure I was on so the weight-making process began that afternoon. Nice.

I went out paddling to learn the course, which is pretty straight with a buoy turn at half way. The light was failing by about 5.30 and I made it back just in time to put my boat back on the trailer, which had been ably driven over by Christy Job and co-pilot a few days earlier. The boy had gone out cycling at about 3.45pm and I had a light supper to ensure I didn’t tip the scales the next morning. He still wasn’t home by 7pm and it was really quite dark. Like a proper Mummy, I started to envisage him lying at the bottom of a ditch, having been mown down by a mad Italian driver. Happily he clip-clopped back in just before 8pm and we snuck out for a pizza. Well, HE ate pizza. I watched and drooled over his can of Sprite (I hadn’t drunk since 3pm and my tongue had started to feel like the bottom of a birdcage).

Race day dawned with the ritual plastic top and trousers going on under my lycra, leggings and several tops and we wandered down to the rowing club so that I could get a little 20 minute ergo done. Since the previous evening, the organisers had evidently gone to a chemist and bought a new set of scales! Nothing like consistency. And this was nothing like it. Weigh-in came at an easy 58.3kg. OK, so I overcooked it, but I wasn’t going to embarrass myself by not making weight!


Anyway, Tom had watched the Kinderskiff the day before and we estimated that it would take an hour for one hundred scullers to start, so I reckoned I would have enough time to chow down at the hotel and boat around 11.30, a full hour and a half after the first sculler was sent off. All went to plan until we started to take the boat to the landing stage and numbers 330 onwards were already lining up. And at 354, I was nowhere near the pontoon. Somewhere they had speeded up and the best laid plans went to buggery. We managed to wriggle down to the pontoon and boat in slight panic, and I literally did my gate up, turned and started. Just in time. Thank God for the warm up run I’d done! The person I thought would be the biggest threat, Pamela Weisshaupt (2008 and 2009 World Champion), was due to start two places behind me but she was nowhere to be seen.

I set off at a cheeky 32, and settled into a long and tappy 28 – 29 spm. Within 100m I had caught the girl in front of me and pulled away from the scullers behind me. I started to feel good, keeping well into the bank going upstream, but still feeling the pull of the stream on my bowside blade. I came up on a couple of slow junior boys, overtook one and then was impeded by the other when he steered into me as I was going past him. Lots of clashing ensued and my blades became stuck under his bows and we came to a dead stop. Grrrr. I disentangled myself and set off again, coming up quickly on the German and Italian lightweight girls who were ahead of me. I tried going one way, then another, but each time I moved they seemed to steer directly into my path. This stalemate continued from about the 3k mark onwards, and as we got to the buoy turn I took a storming line and got a cracking turn in, edging out a third sculler who had gone a bit far and wide. The Italian continued to weave about in front of me, bleating occasionally and eventually stopping in a tantrum and starting again once we’d gone past her. The German carried on weaving and clashing with me - every time I moved to go past her, she steered into me and I could feel the time slipping away from me. Eventually, around one of the bridges with about 1k to go, I steered a much better line than her and within about 300 metres I’d taken about six boat lengths out of her. I was so frustrated, knowing that I’d lost a heap of time being entangled with her and the other girl.








Coming back to the boathouses I was able to focus on rhythm and flow and I kept moving better and better, although my back was starting to fatigue. We’ve started putting together a new technique change and like anything, it will take a while for my body to get used to it. I still ache today! I had a good chat with the impeding German once we’d crossed the line, who apologised for her steering, and I was heartened to see Rich’s face smiling at me from the pontoon. He’d followed the whole race on his bike and I was so happy to see him!

I had no idea where I’d come, although I knew that I had beaten all of the lightweights starting around me as no one had come up on me. I had no idea how Eliane Waser had done as she was seeded from the previous year and had started in the 150s. Eventually it became clear that Pamela had won, Eliane in second and me in the bronze medal position. Even more impressive, both had come second and third in the overall women’s classification, taking home not only medals but cash prizes as well, and the fastest woman was heavyweight Mae Joyce Gay from the USA. I was thrilled to have won bronze, but also started to feel really flat that my time wasn’t closer to the winner. I had beaten former World Champion Daniela Nachazelova into fourth, and was tenth fastest woman overall, but I couldn’t help being disappointed as well. I suppose the day I stop wanting to be better and better is the day I ought to hang up my blades! Tom had a good race I believe, coming in fourth in the Men’s Masters A, and I think he’ll have another crack at it next year as well. We both have slightly unfinished business!

After the presentation, Richard headed off cycling and I chilled out at the hotel, before going out for supper and THE BEST pistachio ice cream I have EVER tasted!

So, onwards to the next event, which is the Indoor Champs this Sunday and then the Scullers’ Head on the 27th. I’m feeling a bit odd today, feeling like I’m fighting off a cold. I wonder if I’d sweated so much in Turin, and got chilled in the cold air, or if it’s the temperature in the gym at LA Fitness where I do my weights and core stability sessions. I’m sure it’ll all be fine, and I seem to feel a lot better about ergos after working on some issues with Jules. We did at board breaking exercise, where you write down your inhibitions, your limiting beliefs and negative thoughts on one side, and all the opposites on the other side. Needless to say, there was a lot to go on, and it took about two hours for me to get through it, with me at one point standing as far away from the board as I could get, to eventually gathering up every ounce of frustration, emotion and feeling of unworthiness that have built up over the years and, well, this is the result: Not two, but smashed into three pieces!

So I feel as though I have laid a few demons to rest!

We'll see where it takes me!

Curve balls, bleatings, new starts and exciting prospects!!

OK, clearly my life is SOOO hectic that I can’t find twenty minutes to knock out a blog post in, errr, I don’t know how long. As I always say, I am sure everyone has been hankering after an update, waiting with bated breath and completely unable to function without knowing what is going on. In fact, there IS a lot going on. So there.

So, first things first. Ever since JPM has been in New Zealand for the World Championships (will blog about the fantastic racing produced by GB, the awesome pocket rocket Frida Svensson taking Karsten down and surprises in other events separately) I have had cause to examine where I am in terms of my day to day training, and where I feel comfortable and happy. I have taken the decision, after a lot of soul searching, to move up-river to Henley Rowing Club and I moved the little ship up there on Tuesday morning where she seems quite happy. It felt like my first day at a new school but the other children played nicely and Captain Dan (who I knew anyway) was a very helpful headmaster.

The spare boat is currently sitting on a trailer in Turin, ready for this weekend’s Silver Skiff head race, held over 11000m on the River Po – we fly first thing in the morning and I am so excited. I did a practice 9000m piece at Eton Excelsior last weekend in preparation for it and O. M. G. I bleated like a good ‘un! It’s going to hurt like a bitch, my glutes will scream, my lungs will fight for air and every fibre of my body will beg for mercy but I am relishing the challenge and loving the thought of getting back out there. I had a bug three weeks ago (which everyone seems to have had I think) and I’m getting much better, so much so that I’m not even considering it as a factor in my preparations. I have done a lot of NLP and work on my self-confidence, and it’s constantly surprising to me still that I don’t feel this sense of pathetic apology when preparing for races, ergos and training. I was talking to my Pilates clients this afternoon when they asked how things were going, and I could honestly say that I am heading towards, and experiencing, the things that I have been searching for, for so long both in my training and attitude. I cannot wait for each race now; training is about speed, not weight, and races, which were almost an interruption to my training, are now something to be searched for and become enthused about. I’ve got former World Champions Pamela Weisshaupt of Switzerland and Daniela Nachazelova of the Czech Republic hunting me down and it’s going to be a right old ding dong. Whoop whoop! Bring it ON!

The other exciting project which I was being coy about is looking very good, but has been marred somewhat by a huge curveball, unceremoniously chucked at us courtesy of the All Africa Games organisers who have now moved the competition from 3-17th July to 3rd – 18th SEPTEMBER!!

Basically, I was contacted some months ago by a chap called Tim Cook who found out about me on tinterweb while browsing about rowing in Zambia. He is planning to put together a team to be the first people to row the Zambezi from the Angolan border with Zambia to the Victoria Falls at Livingstone, and he has asked me to be the only – and therefore first ever – woman to complete the challenge. The row will probably be taking place at the end of July/beginning of August, which would be perfect timing if the AAG dates had been at the original time. Now we have to start thinking creatively and work out the best way of dealing with the situation.

More about all of this later.

Peace, out, until after I have bleated my way down the course on the River Po. Roll on the Italian Job, Zambia Styleeee!!

BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!

Lifeguarding, racing and trying to stay awake.....

Phew. I am sitting down, finally, and not doing the things I should be doing!! It’s been far too long since my last missive, and lots has happened, not least today’s excitement involving a veteran men’s 2x capsizing on the river this morning and yours truly fishing them out. I am honestly beginning to wonder if I am somehow causing these mishaps indirectly....this is the second (but infinitely far less life-threatening) incident I have been involved in, in as many months!!! Anyway, no harm done, just two very soggy chaps and perhaps a couple of bruised egos (and knees).

We are nearing the end of the third block of training and I can honestly say that this is the first time in my life that I have managed to stay illness and injury free. Admittedly, I have had to take the odd day where, to coin JPM’s phrase, I felt a bit “hot in the throat” and I have backed right off the training, choosing to either sleep (I know) or go on one of my epic walks which sometimes end in me losing my bearing completely and being rescued by Barbour jacketed ladies on the way home from collecting Labrador supplies (or whatever). However, it really is an eye-opener to find that I am able to rest, then push, then rest, then push...up until now it’s been pure survival from one day to the next and just getting through the session has been the goal, not necessarily moving on. I am not saying that I am all of a sudden going to produce performances that will set the world alight, but small successes, however many or few, are coming my way and I count my blessings for the opportunities I have.

Racing has started again, and the weekend before last I toddled over to Wallingford to race the Long Distance Sculls. I’d chatted about how to approach the race and was advised to “keep the powder dry”, and tap over the course at a long yet lively 29 – 30 spm, which I duly did. However the lively bit didn’t really happen in the first division, where due to logistics I was only able to race for time in the Women’s Elite Single, and although I gained the fastest time of the whole day, there were moments where I thought I’d shot my bolt, even at that relatively low rate! Sadly no acknowledgement or prize for that, but such is life! I then went out again for the second division, where there was at least the possibility of a pot in the Women’s Masters A Single, and got up to the start all prepared with warm kit as I know that I get so cold while waiting in the marshalling zone. However that plan was well and truly scuppered not once, but twice, by an over-enthusiastic safety launch swamping me completely, soaking my back and legs, dumping a load of water into my footwell and, yes, rendering my lovely warm kit, so lovingly prepared, absolutely sodden and weighing a ton! I spent a lot of time wringing and baling, and rapidly getting colder and colder, which meant that after more than an hour of waiting, my hands had lost all feeling and circulation and my lips were turning blue. I am not cut out for cold weather, and it’s not even winter yet! Anyway, the sculling, once we got started, was much more zippy than earlier in the day, still going over at a relatively low rate, when I came unstuck just outside the Brookes boathouse. I do not know what happened, but I was overtaking two girls, one on each side of me, and as we started to come level they sort of attacked in a watery pincer move, with all three of us ending up completely stationary and my stroke side blade jammed under one boat and no way of getting it free without the other sculler backing down. Eventually we extricated ourselves but the damage was done, no fastest time for me there (but a pot nonetheless).

The next day, Ze German, the boy, the sibling, the little miss and I, accompanied by Dave Duncan, Dani and Jacqui, headed to Marlow for the Rowers’ Revenge Triathlon. Jules had put together a team to race to raise awareness for her “M.E. – not the end of me” campaign, comprising of her on the row, Richard on the bike leg and Dave bringing it home on the run. I’d signed up to do the race on my own, as I wanted to support Jules too and I started the morning wondering how the hell we were going to manage in the pouring rain! I started earlier than Team Reichel, and started the 4k row conservatively, tapping it along at about 1:57 – 1:58 splits, figuring I could always take it up if necessary. I came off the erg just behind the previous year’s winner from Imperial, and hobbled to my bike. I tried to get my gloves and shoes on faster than her, and ended up struggling to get the gloves over my sweaty palms. I gave it up as a bad job as I saw Imperial Girl (IG) grab her bike before me, and gave chase. I wasn’t sure how or why at the time, but she seemed to gradually pull away from me during the course of the bike leg, and I got more and more frustrated, in particular as another girl came up behind my just before the turn in Henley. As I looked at her, I realised that I was not in anything like an aerodynamic position, as I’d completely forgotten to go down on the drops (I didn’t have tri bars as an option)! I have never ever done any sort of cycling time trial before so it didn’t really occur to me – I just worked and slogged and hoped for the best like I normally do on club rides! I managed to shake off the challenge of this new girl after a few little tussles and as I came back into Higginson Park where the race HQ was situated, IG was just putting her trainers on for the run. Excellent. You’re bigger than me, but I can have you. I chipped and chipped away during the run and overtook her in the 4^th kilometre, eventually coming in over 40 seconds ahead of her.

It was great seeing Jules so happy with her row, and I was so proud of her for so many reasons....however I was a little concerned when they asked where Richard was as he was due back to hand the belt to David. He was more than five minutes later than we had anticipated and when there was talk of a road crash and two ambulances in attendance we all gulped. Happily, he came in a few minutes later, and it turns out that he had punctured within the first kilometre! However he valiantly soldiered on and David ran a blistering 5.5km to bring the team home. We looked at the results and it became clear that I had won the women’s section outright, but we were so wet and cold that we’d gone for tea and missed the prize-giving! Doh! However I did get my trophy and a £50 gift voucher for Saddle Safari, along with a goodie bag so I was rather pleased with the day’s work!

Next up is the Silver Skiff in Turin, an 11km head race, which I am really looking forward to doing. November will be a pretty hectic month, with the Henley Long Distance Sculls in the first weekend, the Silver Skiff the next, The British Indoor Rowing Championships in the third and lastly the Scullers’ Head of the River on 27^th November. The last three will be raced at “winter lightweight” (61.5kg) which isn’t a problem as I normally sit between 59kg and 60kg throughout the whole year. The new training programme has changed my body composition again and I appear to have beaten the amenorrhea I have had for the past 6 years. Inconvenient as it is, it is heartening to know I can be light, train hard and “still be a woman”!! I’m not sure what has happened but I have reached a new stage mentally, primarily with Jules’ help with NLP, along with Alex Howard, the owner of a clinic called the Optimum Health Clinic. I have completely changed my outlook to training, racing and my own body and I am reaping the rewards of being much more in tune with myself.

More in the next instalment on some of the breakthroughs I have experienced - smashing ones in fact – along with some really really exciting news which I am itching to talk about! Once it all goes live I will be able to give more detail, but it’s an opportunity of a lifetime and between that and the All Africa Games, 2011 is going to be a ripping year!

Baby elephants and new perspectives

Life is a funny old game. At least, that’s the conclusion I’ve come to over the last week or so. Certain events in people’s lives can have an impact forever, and when I consider how much my life has changed in say, the past three years, I would say that not one of us can take a single thing for granted. Yesterday was my three year wedding anniversary. That’s all I’m going to say about that!

I also feel that I am in danger of becoming a one-woman, pain-in-the-backside crusader for water safety after an incident on the Thames last week. Without going into any detail, but to make it clear from the outset, the individuals involved HAD been wearing lifejackets throughout their trip, however it took that short moment between getting up and washed and putting the jackets on for a near-tragedy to occur. They were very unlucky, but I now find myself noticing how many people choose not to wear life jackets while out on the river. This applies to barges, gin palaces and tin fish alike...and I couldn’t resist asking one couple on their narrowboat this morning what made them decide not to wear one. The woman’s answer was, well, unsatisfactory: “We’ve never fallen in”.

Hmmm. Well done to the crew of this narrowboat!

This is a copy of an email I sent to our Club Water Safety Adviser and the Upper Thames Committee the other day (some personal details and names have been omitted):

Dear CWSA As promised, I'm writing to outline my suggestions and concerns surrounding safety and emergency procedures at the club following last Thursday's potentially fatal accident. I feel that we as a club have been extremely lucky that we have not had a serious incident in the past few years. However this does not mean that the membership as a whole (and by default therefore the general public who pass by our frontage every day) would not benefit greatly from a greater awareness of the risks of injury - and specifically drowning - and how to respond to these risks. It became very clear to me that, whilst I have attended a basic first aid course as part of my insurance requirements as a Pilates teacher, I was not trained to deal with drowning, which is clearly a specific risk factor on the river. Moreover I know from first hand experience when a member slashed her arm, that most people do not know what to do in a simple first aid situation either. Again, it was just lucky that I had only been on the course about three weeks prior to this incident! I would like therefore to request that the club arrange to have an external training provider come in and offer a course to members on a voluntary basis. Clearly there is a limit to the numbers that can be catered for in any one session, however I feel that if it takes ten courses to accommodate people, so be it. Rather invest the money and save lives, than be unlucky that the people on hand one day when something happens don't have a clue what to do, panic ensues and a tragedy occurs. I'll look forward to chatting to you about this further if needs be, and I would be glad to be of assistance in arranging some training in due course. With my best wishes

So, it appears that I am now one of these do-gooders I inwardly smile about! Ah well.

On to other things....I went out running with the boy the other day. He doesn’t do a lot any more, and it was as a result of a running injury that his interest in cycling was sparked. Well, let’s say a burning bonfire of interest was lit!! However, he was very fast back in the day, sub-four minute miles at age 17 and a good steeplechaser as well. Anyway, we went for my pre-breakfast run which is meant to be a fat-burning level, and honest to God, I felt like a baby elephant next to him. He seemed to just “skim” along the road, to float across the ground, and on the incline, chubby-legged old me was left feeling a little hopeless when I wasn’t going fast enough for him to move faster than a brisk walk. Stride patterns, apparently. Shuh, right.

Isn’t it annoying that some people are just born athletes, that they are just “put together right” for sport? I am one of these who likes sport, but has to work damn hard to keep up, whereas some people just, well, CAN.

Dammit. Better just head off to my wallow and get muddy.

I think, ergo I am?

I am going off subject now for a rant. I know. Another one. It’s GCSE day today, and we should all be very excited and proud that our teenagers are getting so intelligent that they are producing record results. Our education system is clearly delivering superb quality, and our industry leaders are bound to have excellent candidates to choose from as and when they flood into the workplace.

I’m sorry, but it just doesn’t compute. How is it possible that, against the time when O-levels were the standard, our teens have suddenly become genii, or what would appear to be genii in comparison with their counterparts 30 years ago, if these results are to be believed? I was talking to the wonderful boy about it this lunchtime. His was the last year to sit O-levels, and they were given – as an experiment – the proposed GCSE paper for the following year. By all accounts the O-level candidates couldn’t believe how easy it was – and it would seem that the difficulty has not increased since then!

Anyway, to quote Mr Gump, that’s all I have to say about that. On to the next subject...building a mosque two streets away from the site of Ground Zero. My main question is, “HAVE WE LOST ALL COMMON SENSE”?

Come on, people, this is madness. I really cannot see how it can be argued that it is a good idea, just from a human sensitivity point of view, let alone the wider political implications. There must surely be a more suitable, alternative site for the proposed mosque and cultural centre. Now, I don’t agree with certain opponents of the project, who say that it would be tantamount to plastering a Swastika next to the Holocaust Museum, and that it is a breeding ground for terrorism. That is seriously over-egging the pudding in my opinion (for what it’s worth – not much, I know). However, I do believe that, even though the United States embraces all religions and prides itself on freedom of expression, there should also be consideration for the non-Muslim citizens of NYC and families who lost so many loved ones on 9/11. Admittedly I haven’t gone into the background of this in great detail, but why has this particular, hugely emotive location been chosen? Whose bright idea was it in the first place, and did he take his exams in the UK? Sorry, couldn’t resist that one!

OK, before I get lynched, I’ll leave this topic and get onto less provocative material. Like my 2k test this weekend. Ze German and I have been doing some NLP work on a range of aspects of my personal and sporting life, one of which is my “relationship” with the erg. It has never been a happy one, to be honest, and I know that I am not alone in this! For some reason, what I can produce on the water and in the gym does not reflect in my erg times and I seem to have stagnated at one level for the past few tests. It is almost like I have imagined the erg to be this big nasty monster that looms above me and I sort of apologetically clamber onto it and let it dominate me and my mental state. Well, we’ve changed all of that, and let my subconscious satnav take me to the score I wish to produce this weekend. I feel that I have needed to make some fundamental changes to the way I approach the erg (and don’t just say “walk up to it and sit down”!), for as the cliché goes, “If you do what you’ve always done, you’re going to get what you’ve always got”.

Watch this space!

Bobbing along, on the bottom of the beautiful briny sea....

How remiss of me. It’s been well over a week since I last blogged, and I’m sure people’s lives are very empty without my wafflings. Actually, I don’t really expect anyone to read my rambling missives, but it serves quite a good purpose for me as a sort of ongoing diary of what’s going on training and racing-wise. And I get to stand on my soapbox and bang on about things that make me cross. Like cruisers whose “skippers” go too fast on the Thames. I mean, honestly, some people are complete a-holes on the river. I was out training the other day and this absolutely massive vessel (OK, it wasn’t as big as The Waterman, but still....) was steaming by, creating this enormous wash that broke over the sides of my boat, over my back up to my bra and pretty nearly tipped me in. Of course, I requested politely and sweetly in delectable language that he “cool his jets”, and his reply was: “I can’t control the boat when it’s going slowly, it’s too big”. To which my response was, “In that case, sir, I suggest that if you are unable to steer a boat that size, you should not be in charge of it at all”. I appreciate that larger vessels rely on forward thrust for steering and therefore ARE very hard to steer at low speed, but then my argument would be that such a large boat should not be allowed on inland waterways in the first place.

See? Rant over.

So, we’re nearing the end of week three, and I’m getting used to the new training regime, with pre-breakfast runs, and spreading the sessions over the day rather than doing the whole lot in the morning to get them over and done with. We’re trying to find a suitable programme of racing this winter, and have got some exciting things in mind. We decided not to race the Wingfields in the end, and will focus on the early races such as Wallingford Long Distance Sculls, Pairs’ Head and the Silver Skiff in Turin, Italy. We were thinking about doing the Armada Cup in Bern, but looking at the pros versus the cons, we seem to be heavily weighted in favour of the latter! With a mass start in waves of scullers, and new entries (i.e. me) starting near the back, the likelihood of me coming back with a very damaged boat, and potentially a damaged body to boot, was too great to risk going. I think it would be a fun thing to do one day, but perhaps not right for me, right now!!

So there is a lot to look forward to, and with the Zambian National Constitution Committee winding up at the end of August, things are looking exciting. I believe that they are hoping to have the Constitution in place fairly quickly, and I know that they definitely want it in before the elections in 2011. I am obviously hoping that there will be a green booklet in my paws well before the racing season starts in earnest in 2011!!

On another note completely, my poor little ginger mog has finally been emasculated. He has come home feeling very sorry for himself, and I am sure that he won’t be scaling the garden trellis for a few days yet while things, err, settle down. However I don’t feel so sorry for him that I am relieved to have pre-empted the inevitable spraying antics of the territorial feline in full masculinity mode!! He’s getting his chops around a bit of tuna as a treat (hoping he won’t barf it up from the anaesthetic) and he’ll be right as rain very soon I’m sure!

He would have loved our little school holiday trip the other day. We took Tabby (the wonderful boy’s little girl) to the Sea Life Centre in London...I could honestly spend endless hours in a place like that. I love anything nature-orientated and was fascinated by the weird and wonderful shapes and colours the sea has to offer. The oddest thing though, was the influence that Hollywood has had in there. Of course, there were the resident Clown Fish and co, and the entire section was named after Nemo and his scaly pals.

Funny, really, how popular culture permeates every aspect of our lives....I see that the New Oxford English dictionary has a new entry in the form of the word “vuvuzela”.

'Nuff said.

Lordy lardy!!

I’m so happy to be back on the water! Even if it’s only for fairly short outings at the moment, I’m going to be on day five tomorrow and I’m looking forward to the next, err, couple of years! Obviously this is broken up into manageable chunks and short term goals and targets along the way. I have a tendency to look at the top of the ladder and only think about the top, and not the individual rungs I have to climb to get there. So, each training block is a step towards where I’m going, and I have had to bear all of this in mind when making some pretty tough decisions.

I’ve done the maths, worked out the time scales and it has become clear that between financial constraints and the issues surrounding the passport situation, New Zealand isn’t going to come off. It’s an awfully long way, and even without the stress of whether or not the new Zambian constitution is in place in time for the passport application to go through, we’re looking at multiple thousands of pounds to get both Julia and I over there, with flights, accommodation and food, not to mention the boat transport and so on as well. At best I would have four races, and potentially only three depending on how things go, which equates to over £1500 per race! When you self fund, you have to ask yourself whether that sort of sum would be best spent elsewhere, such as on camps, more “local” races in Europe and on the main goal for 2011 - the All Africa Games in July which is the Olympic Qualification event for Africa. I think that if I had realistic chance of knocking on the door of a medal on the limited amount of training and preparation I’ve been able to do, then perhaps the Worlds this year would be a goer, but we just don’t have that luxury, and certainly not the luxury of a national federation who have a lot of resources to send athletes that far.

So, in some ways, I will have had to miss out on so much this year, but in comparison to last year where I wasn’t able to do anything at all, I have also achieved quite a bit too. I need to keep the perspective and keep my eyeses on the prizes, focus in and use the time that I have between now and the AAGs intelligently and to my best benefit.

On another, quite unrelated note, I’m going to have a moan. I was out walking the other day and I saw a couple walking their golden Labrador. So far all OK. However, this animal was so hugely fat that the poor thing could barely waddle faster than a crawl, and there was certainly no way the butterball could have jumped to catch a ball!

It then brought to mind parents who allow their children to become obese. We would berate a pet owner for not treating their animals in the right way by overfeeding them and not exercising them correctly. Why then do we not take parents to task for essentially sending their whelps into bad health, social exclusion and an inability to partake of the things that normal children can do, such as running around the park and so on? It all makes me very cross.

And before anyone comes back at me for being fattist, I have been obese myself and managed to drag myself out of it; I have been on the receiving end of bullies, snide comments and exclusion from activities. I remember going to St Gilgen with friends while I was studying in Salzburg, and we all went waterskiing. Well, I should say, my friends went waterskiing and when I asked if there was time for me to go (admittedly I was about 80kilos at the time!), the woman looked me up and down with a sneer on her face and said, “For you?” I still suffer from loose skin on my thighs and stomach, which I will never get rid of, and I still look in the mirror and dislike what I see there. When you are used to seeing yourself a certain way, and when the messages you have heard for years are ones of negativity and derision, it is that mentality that sticks the most. The below was taken on the way to my worst....I think I started avoiding the camera after this!!

Phew. Rant over.

On Ilkley Moor Baht’at, and wealth is missing from my Common

Another birthday over for another year – and what a difference a year makes too! Memories from last year’s tear-fest have been replaced by lovely gestures from close friends, and a trip “oop that there North” with my wonderful boy to give me a break from anything to do with sport, divorces, troubles and tribulations.

I’ve had a whole week away from any kind of activity and I feel great...have been out on my road bike twice today, and been to see my physio – the fantastic, and newly babied-up Dave Kershaw at Complete Physiotherapy – about my dodgy ker-nees. He’s very kindly supporting me in my little quest and has sorted out numerous niggles and pains...knees are his speciality though, and has worked with English Cricket amongst other sports too. Highly recommend him!

Anyway, I had never been to Yorkshire before, and it’s where the Boy spent much of his childhood, as his mother was born there and his grandparents were there for many years. Our time was spent sleeping, tramping about on the moors, climbing the Cow and Calf rocks and sitting in the Crocodile’s Mouth...with absolutely no itinerary and no pressure to do anything (well, apart from some work on Richard’s part, but that’s what happens when you’re the boss and I can never mind that, as we get to spend so much time together as a rule, which I adore)!

I am now the proud owner of some bits for my bike (living with a cycling nutter, it’s inevitable!), a new suitcase as mine spewed its guts out on the conveyor belt in Sydney Airport, and best of all, a new SpeedCoach Gold. I don’t know if anyone else finds some of the NK gear incredibly unreliable...I have had many minor stakeboat panics when nothing works and nothing starts, so hopefully we can erase the unknowns a bit now!

We went out for dinner on Friday night and had a great meal, topped off by the most mouth-wateringly, stomach-groaningly, melt-on-your-tongue, make-your-eyes-cross –in-gastro-rapture truffles. They were SO worth relaxing my strict rules for – and it was my birthday so I felt no guilt!!

Then Saturday was spent driving home in time for a wash-up meeting with Team Zambia, which I think was a success and we all know where we’re going and who is doing what. It’s very hard doing the independent thing and one person cannot do everything from kit to travel to PR to rigging to coaching to to to to to...., and somehow this has all got to be funded! Which is the next big step we need to take. So the hunt is on for sponsorship for the quest, and we’re putting together some promotional material and hoping that it is appealing to someone out there! Any suggestions would be gratefully received!

I was also given my birthday pressies from Julia and Jules...baby sis gave me a piggy bank (SOOO cute and pretty apt given the cash situation!) and Jules, well, this is the photo she had printed up on a canvas for me. It sums up the regatta and that particular race for me and I choked when I opened up the parcel. It wasn’t so much that I was exhausted at that moment, but more that I had to grab my rigger and shake my boat up and down in delight. I know some people might say “It’s only Women’s Henley”, but stuff it. I worked bloody hard just to get to the start of the regatta, and that race was all heart.

So, training starts again in exactly one week. In the meantime, I’m going out cycling, sorting out admin, getting my knees fixed (or at least in some working order – I looked like an old woman climbing up those rocks) and enjoying some more time with friends. As you can see, I am sadly not in Canada this week for the Commonwealths, as despite selection I am unable to scrape up enough crispy banknotes to fund it so it’s at home I stay. It’s all to do with rowing being an optional sport – if it was in India, then chocks away, Zambia’s Ministry of Sport would fund me, but hey ho, that’s life. I believe though that if I did one of the other “compulsory sports”, then I would be funded. Hmm, one of them is cycling........I wonder.........

However, mad ideas aside, it’s all made up for by the fact that Jules moves back to Henley - and HOME! – on Friday and I’m so excited. We’ll celebrate by going for a boogie to the fabulous “Lucky to Be Alive”, fronted by the delightful Matt Richardson, who are playing at KoKo (formerly known as The Bull) in Henley. Matt and I have discovered that we share an intolerance for bad spelling and general moronic behaviour. The two brides at two different weddings who I spotted “shmoking a faaaaag” in their pretty wedding gowns spring to mind (classy), not to mention people who say “Haitch” (annoying) and those who put the butter knife in the jam (gross). Perhaps I should muster up some more examples...send me a load of suggestions if you have any bugbears you need to get off your chests (and also let me know if you spot any typos just to show me up for being a numpty)!

To stop or not to stop?

Mr Contador has divided opinion. He has also apologised to his rival, Andy Schleck, for making a decisive and aggressive move at a moment when Schleck suffered mechanical failure and, arguably, had Alberto Contador on the ropes.

Now, what are the rules of fair play and gentlemanly sportsmanship here? Should Contador have stopped and waited for Schleck to sort out his chain? Or was it only fair that, given the fact that he had already stopped for Schleck in another stage earlier in the Tour, Contador exploited an opportunity to claw back the 31 seconds time difference between him and the Yellow Jersey? The two are huge rivals, but apparently have a good relationship.....

It’s a tough one really. I don’t know what I would have done in a similar position. The nice, “human” part of me would like to think that I would be kind, knowing that I would appreciate it if someone did the same to me if I was having problems. On the other hand, when you’re talking about potentially winning or losing an event as huge as the Tour de France, when sponsorship and team contracts ride (no pun intended) on your finishing position, is all fair in love and sport? In many ways, mechanical failure and your decisions to have certain parts (or not) on your bike are all part and parcel of racing and when things go wrong that’s just life. Schleck had apparently chosen to save himself 50g and not ride with a chain guard, which would have prevented the mishap from happening. Everyone is out for themselves and their results. Contador would have been lauded as the ultimate sportsman, as Jan Ulrich was when he waited for Lance Armstrong when he was knocked off by a wayward spectator, however that wouldn’t have been any consolation if he’d come second in the overall standings when the whole Tour is over and done with.

It brings to mind the rules of racing in rowing. We watched the start of the women’s single at Lucerne (whilst swimming in the Freibad) and Karsten stopped within a few strokes of the race commencing. Because the race had not yet reached 100m, all scullers were made to stop and the race was postponed until she had sorted out the problem (it looked like a rigger issue). Now, had this happened in the middle 1000m, I’m sure none of her competitors would have thought, “Oh look, poor Ekaterina has a problem, let’s stop and wait while she fiddles about”. Au contraire, you would grasp the opportunity and stick the knife in. We’ve all heard people at Henley saying that they would have no chance against the international or seeded crews, and that they can only hope their adversaries have an encounter with the booms, catch a crab or their footplates jump off. Aside from the written rules of the first hundred metres or so, it would take an awful lot to allow the opportunity of a win, however that may come to us, to pass us by.

Anyway, I’ve just spoken to my favourite German, who is in her home town having watched the amazing Chrissie Wellington smash her own world record yet again at the Roth Ironman Challenge. It bodes well for her World Championship bid in Hawaii in October later this year, and she is truly a huge inspiration to us all. And she’s a nice person! Go, Chrissie!!

Just chillax, man!!

I’m having a moment. Well, it’s a bit longer than a moment if I’m honest, but a moment it is, nonetheless. I’m having to keep in mind all the things I have learned about truly being in tune with my body and mind, and learning to be kind to myself.

I’ve always been one to push, push and push even harder, no matter what. That’s what got me into my little pickle in the first place – and now I’m in danger of doing it all again. When you’re feeling good, and you’re riding on a wave of adrenalin and being busy, it’s hard to remember the feelings of complete exhaustion and inability to think straight. However I came back to earth with a crash yesterday – literally – and I’m now having to be extra careful with myself in order that the year’s efforts aren’t completely wasted.

I allowed myself two or three days of nothingness last week after Lucerne, and even allowed myself normal ice cream last Sunday, before starting some cross training on Wednesday...running, weights, cycling and so on. Nothing strenuous (well, not THAT strenuous), just ticking over to keep metabolising and keep things from seizing up. I did a good couple of cycle rides on Saturday with the GS Henley group and found the pace easy, before the boy got a puncture and I rode back to the car and picked him up. Riding with tubs I believe doesn’t leave room for roadside puncture repairs! Anyhoo, I went out for a girls’ dinner on Saturday night for Catherine’s birthday at the Bull and Butcher in Turville (very nice, apart from the squirt of a waiter who said “I’m quite busy ladies” when someone had to change their order because they had run out and the person in question couldn’t decide) and slept through the meeting time for the GSH group on Sunday morning. I seem to be very tired at the moment!

So, Richard and I went out together after breakfast and the pace was really steady, but after only an hour and a bit, I started to feel absolutely awful. I stopped and had a little moment of feeling really pathetic, but I got back on and continued for a bit longer. However I was completely drained of all energy and felt unable to turn my legs. Then my vision started to go and I weaved and wobbled until (on the most inappropriately busy road of course), I eventually wobbled off and landed in a heap on the grass verge, sobbing with exhaustion and curling up just wanting to go to sleep exactly where I was. Eventually Richard managed to persuade me to haul my carcass up and we crawled to a coffee shop in one of the Chalfonts where we had a cup of tea and I had a banana. I was freezing cold and just couldn’t warm up but we got back on and carried on. After only fifteen minutes though, I started weaving again and had to stop, and Richard then practically pushed me to Beaconsfield where he left me in a coffee shop while he cycled home to get the car and pick me up.

I haven’t ever had an episode like that before. I do get very lightheaded if I haven’t eaten for a few hours, as we all do, and if I have trained really hard and long I will need to make sure I don’t leave it too long between meals/snacks. However this felt like I did when I was at my worst with the adrenal fatigue. I think I have to accept that I must take a bit more time out, as mentally I have been so wired for the past few weeks’ worth of racing. There has been a lot of emotion and mental devotion, not to mention the physical strain of racing at such a high level on very little base work. It’s hard to take that step back and realise that if I don’t do that now, I will just put myself right back to where I was in February and I could kiss my year goodbye, again. So, I’m going to get a blood test done to check a few things over – it feels like there’s something going on with insulin and blood sugar – and I will take a few days off this week and go for walks and regenerate. It’s my birthday on Friday and I’m going to just enjoy myself and not think about things too much! I’m so lucky that I have the opportunity to chill out a bit, as I’m not coaching again until September!

On another - and yet again quite unrelated - note, Eminem is really a very angry young man. Am I just getting old?