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 Memories from last year’s tear-fest have been replaced by lovely gestures from close friends, and a trip “oop that there North” with my wonderful boy to give me a break from anything to do with sport, divorces,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)!