The Welsh 3000s

It's 03:58 and I'm stood at Pen y Pass contemplating the challenge ahead of us. My three hill buddies have about 5g of body fat between them and a collective height advantage of 2 feet and 9 inches over me. I know I'm in for a tough day.

I can't complain though, doing the Welsh 3000s was my idea. Having been on my bucket list for years, one inspiring book saw my enthusiasm newly refreshed and I started asking who'd be up for it. One doodle poll later and I had a team just as keen as me.

Pen y Pass. L-R, Debs, Pete, Tristan, Amy

Tristan is an ultra machine. Three weeks ago he came fifth at the Hardmoors 110 (that's 110 miles!) so he's got some serious calibre. Tristan - like most ultra runners - loves to eat, and is very good at reminding everyone else to keep eating too because he just can't imagine why someone wouldn't be eating. He is also constantly cheerful which is excellent for team morale.

Amy is the Queen of prep, clocking up several big days in the hills and a few 30km training runs for good measure. She'd even been out and actually recce'd some of our proposed descents from opposite valleys. Amy hosted our planning session and turned a whiteboard full of scrawl into a meticulously organised spreadsheet of travel and kit logistics, down to the very important detail of each person providing their own poo bags and wet wipes.

Pete is the ultimate mountain man, years of experience in the hills and an uncanny skill of glancing at the map and remembering the entire route. Has been known to rock up to 50 mile events on a whim but he doesn't do any tech and rarely races, so he has this stealth aura where none of us truly know the extent of his physical capability.

Our secret weapon however, is Debs. Debs is the one who's volunteered to drop us at the start, pick us up at the finish and meet us at two checkpoints with food and supplies. She's a crew extraordinare and has made the whole adventure much simpler for us to plan.

For anyone who isn't aware, the Welsh 3000s is a challenge to summit all the mountains in Wales over 3000 feet. There are 15 of them and there's no set route. Our estimated mileage was about 30 for our chosen route. Our strategy was to fast hike, with the possibility of a bit of gentle running on any good downhill or flat bits.

The Welsh 3000s

1. Crib Goch 3028ft

2. Garnedd Ugain 3494ft

3. Snowdon 3559ft

4. Elidir Fawr 3031ft

5. Y Garn 3106ft

6. Glyder Fawr 3284ft

7. Glyder Fach 3261ft

8. Tryfan 3011ft

9. Pen yr Ole Wen 3208ft

10. Carnedd Dafydd 3425ft

11. Carnedd Llewelyn 3490ft

12. Yr Elen 3156ft

13. Foel Grach 3202ft

14. Carnedd Gwenllian 3038ft

15. Foel-fras 3090ft

The Snowdon Massif

A few big groups had set off before us, and whilst many probably weren't destined for Crib Goch, we were determined to try to get to the ridge before all of them. 

Enjoying 'sunrise' over Crib Goch

Pete set the pace and it took all of about three minutes before we had to strip layers. Leaving the safety of the Pyg Track for the climb up to Crib Goch, we were rewarded with a clear route ahead.

The fog rolled in as we neared the top, and stayed with us over Garnedd Ugain (where we caught up with another group and Pete had a mini reunion with some of his mates who were leading).

From there it was busy busy busy on Snowdon, but the clouds did clear just as we reached the summit, I think the first time of maybe six visits where I've ever seen a view from the top!

We didn't hang around though, we touched the top and started tottering straight back down along the Llanberis Path, tracking the railway line beyond Clogwyn Station and then picking our way down the steep, grassy slope towards Nant Peris.

We arrived at the village in exactly 3 hours, and Debs took on the extra role of 'pole fixer' whilst we all refuelled and rehydrated. Amy did have two poles, but they were not a matching pair so trying to make them equal height was a challenge. I'd brought out my 12 year old walking poles and one of them was kaput. Pete managed the tighten the bottom section and handed it back to me, hopeful that it would be enough. I don't think he understood the difference in height between a 5ft person and a 3ft person. With a plethora of poles between us, we set off for a big climb.

"You've just done most people's whole day hike and it's only just 7am!" (Debs)

The Glyders

The grassy, sunny climb up Elidir Fawr

It was a long, grassy climb up Elidir Fawr. In fact it's the single biggest climb of the whole route. We were freshly fed, we had the hill to ourselves, the sun was on our backs and it was just lovely.

From there it was a lovely gently undulating section skirting under Mynydd Perfedd (we weren't allowed bonus climbs, team rules) and contouring south before the next climb up to Y Garn. Five mountains down!

The next descent was equally lovely, and even a bit runnable as we picked up the pace. Then suddenly at the bottom, near the Llyn y Cwn tarn at the bottom of Glyder Fawr, more people started appearing again.

The climb up Glyder Fawr was tough. It was all loose rock and sandy shale which gave way as you stepped on it. There wasn't a secure foothold in sight, it was an energy-sapping ascent and was scattered with people who'd just given up and laid down right on the trail. 

One woman apologised for her slightly inconvenient resting location but mostly wanted to vent about her friend who was "definitely trying to kill her" and then just wearily wished us luck as we carried on plodding our way up. The shale eventually ended where the chunkier loose rocks began and we stopped for a snack at the top.

Somewhen around here, Pete realised that one of his shoes was falling apart. He'd accidentally transformed it into a flip flop hybrid and no amount of gaffa tape was going to fix it. Unfortunately he hadn't put spare shoes in the support car, but one call to saviour Debs and she made a round trip back to the campsite to grab them.

From Glyder Fawr it was barely any descent along the plateau to Glyder Fach. Pete nearly got taken out by an over-enthusiastic spaniel as we enjoyed a little bit of proper trail before it was giant boulder time! The big boulders were great fun, leaping across cracks and clambering around. I was having so much fun I didn't even realise we'd reached the top, but when I looked up I saw the wonder that is Tryfan right in front of us. 

Tryfan from the south

Tryfan looks beastly. I suppose it is quite beastly. I had unfinished business since the last time I was here was December 2010 and I was airlifted off. But before we could contemplate getting up there, we had to get off Glyder Fach; it was a steep, loose, scree gully and it was slow going. Nobody told Pete that, he was straight down and sunning himself on a nice rock waiting for the rest of us. I was enjoying listening to Tristan chat away behind me whilst I focused on my feet, and staying upright.

With that tricky descent out of the way, it was a mixture of scrambling and big steps all the way up Tryfan. It felt good to finally get to the top but we didn't hang around long as it was nearly lunchtime and we could pretty much see Checkpoint 2, a lonnnng way down.

It was another difficult descent, with two incidents of note. One where Tristan tripped and had a little lay down, but after taking a moment, regained his composure and dusted himself off (no injuries, only his trousers).

The second was a mini downclimb which I struggled with because I couldn't see how far away the floor was as I hung on with my arms. I got down and watched Amy have exactly the same struggle. Tristan was attempting to explain where she needed to put her feet and guide her down but it was taking too long for Pete, who shouted "just grab her arse!", and Tristan did just that. It worked, it was all fine and Amy really didn't mind. 

It was a joy to see Debs, who'd managed to bag a parking spot right opposite the exit of the trail. She'd laid out a proper table with drinks, snacks and spare shoes, what a hero. 27.5km completed, 8 mountains climbed and everything was great (apart from Tristan's trousers and Pete's old shoes).

The Carneddau

This was the long bit. We had a short stretch of flat tarmac to get the legs going again after our lunch stop and were joined by Debs who was off for a yomp around Llyn Ogwen.

The climb up Pen yr Ole Wen was enormous, very steep and rocky and more scrambley than we had anticipated. It took us a while to get up there but the view from the top was just incredible; you could see right the way back to the Snowdon Horseshoe and across the Glyders, as well as out to the Carneddau where we were headed next.

This should have been the really runnable bit, but my knee wasn't having any of it after taking a battering on the previous big descents. A fast walk and occasional skip was the best I could do and since it was a glorious afternoon with beautiful views, nobody minded.

It was comparitively easy going up and down Carnedd Dafydd, then we contoured across to Yr Elen. Even though it wasn't 'hard', I actually hate contouring and all the foot and ankle twistyness of it, but it didn't take us too long and before we knew it we were at the top. From here we could see the rest of the route and it really didn't look that far, woo!

From Carnedd Llewelyn it basically felt like it was all downhill, bar the mini lumps of the final three hills, it was mostly grass and just lovely for tired feet. 

The final trig!

I was so happy when we reached Foel-fras that I gave the trig point a giant hug. The whole section From Carnedd Lleweyln and then descent via Drum (we WERE allowed a bonus peak!) would have been a stunner of a run had it not been for my gammy knee. I managed a totter and just thoroughly enjoyed the long, steady downhill.

As we turned the final corner into the very last downhill, we could see the red Goodgym t-shirt of Debs waving from the gate, we'd made it!

Pete was down well before any of the rest of us and still looked totally fresh, like he'd just been for a short walk to the pub. Amy and Tristan came down with massive smiles on their faces too and we all had a little celebration which mostly involved a lot of stretching and putting on clean socks.

Another massive shout out to Debs, having a crew member support meet you right at the end of the trail is totally dreamy and 100 times more enjoyable than a long yomp on tarmac or a load of car faff. 

We were so fortunate to have great conditions for the day, and I was especially grateful to Pete for doing all the nav (though I had helped a slightly lost fell runner to figure out where he was). We'd finished pretty much bang on my "very ambitious" target and apart from the usual aches of a big day on the hills, everyone was feeling great. So great, that we already started contemplating what challenge we could do next...

Pete pretending he was suffering at the end (he was not).

Anglesey Sandman Triathlon 2015

Yep, we were the geeky ones who racked
first. Far too excited.

Sandman, the only slate coaster missing from my coffee table. There was a reason it was the last one of the Welsh Always Aim High triathlon series I'd signed up for, two in fact, it was a sea swim and a flat bike course. Those two reasons however, were the magic words needed to get Lizzie to come with me. It wasn't until she was all paid up and entered that I had to confess there would also be a 10km trail run on mostly sand (her fault really, she hadn't even questioned the name).

Midnight Mountain Marathon

As I drove to the Brecon Beacons for an evening marathon I was scarily under-trained for, it occurred to me how bonkers my whole plan was. I'd left at 6am for a 5:30pm race, why? Obviously it was so I could bosh out a parkrun first. More specifically, the brand new Penallta parkrun which - hilariously - is described as "mostly flat" on the website. The Welsh do crack me up. I wouldn't say it was hilly but it definitely wasn't flat.

I have an ongoing love affair with all things hilly so I didn't mind the undulations one bit. My love for hills is why I was on this crazy journey in the first place. I had entered the Midnight Mountain Marathon and was far too excited about it to put my sensible head on. My knees had been duff and I hadn't run more than one 5k a week since the end of April, so I knew full well that a very challenging marathon was a bit silly but my heart was in it and I just hoped the body would follow.

Caravan Calamity

It's always a gamble, entering a big endurance event. Months of work and build up, all for one day. It is all consuming, every weekend gets taken up with a training epic or practise race. Holidays get planned around good training locations. Toenails gradually disappear. Life becomes divided in "before and after", where "after" is really the only suitable time for hardcore socials as it won't interfere with training. Money gets spent fine-tuning your bike (okay, getting bar tape that matches your frame and helmet..) whilst your car gets abandoned and no matter which bag you go to, there will be some sort of energy bar in it, just in case.

A Year Off, A Year On

I was going to say that "I'm not making any resolutions this year", but Google states that the definition of resolution is "a firm decision to do or not do something". Therefore anyone who insists they are "not making any resolutions" is either a liar, or silly, or too scared to share! I was very nearly silly. Surely everybody has made some sort of decision about something they do or do not want to do this year?!

CTS 2013: Dorset

After waiting for a bus load of Dutch runners to arrive and then listening to the most thorough (read: longest) pre-run briefing I have ever listened to, we finally made our way to the start. I was itching to get going; it had taken me a long time to get here. It was over two years ago when I first heard about the Coastal Trail Series and this was the first time that I was both fit and available at the same time.

The Very Ominous OMM

The Original Mountain Marathon is a two day challenge that combines navigation, hiking, fell-running, generally being wet and muddy, camping and the ability to select and carry all the kit you require, but only the kit you require. Becca (my OMM partner and very tolerant girlfriend) and I had started off being very strict about all the stuff we wouldn't take. My one luxury item would be a camera,

Unfortunately this does not all fit in an 18l rucksack

nothing else non-essential. I tried several times over to ram all the essential kit into my trusty (and very light) Inov-8 Race Pro 18, but eventually I had to give in and up-size to a bulkier, 30 litre model.

As the main event drew closer, and the weather forecast became very real, more and more "essential kit" was added to our list. We had gone from deciding to take the absolute minimum to "Sod it, let's just take everything and be really warm! Let's also take loads of chocolate.. and extra meals". Soon enough, even the bigger pack was full to the brim. I'd been trying to convince Becca for weeks that we really wouldn't be running very much with this much weight but it wasn't until the night before, when we did our final re-pack and kit check and she loaded it onto her back, that she finally agreed with me.

The Inaugural Glow Swim

Hot Chilli Tri know how to run an event. I've been to many of their brilliantly organised open water time-trials and aquathons over the last couple of years. Even their set-up at the Club Relays was impressive with some sort of gourmet chef and printed menu scenario (leftovers of which came to the Salisbury Tri camp.. even better!). When I heard they were organising a night swimming event in the crystal clear waters of Vobster Quay, I suddenly had an unusual feeling: motivation for swimming. I signed up immediately.

We turned up not knowing quite what to expect. The goody bag contained one glow stick and a bit of string which needed to be (firmly) secured to the back of your goggles or top of your wetsuit and another glow stick "for fun" afterwards. I was sort of hoping there might be some kind of swimming rave after-party.

Quantock Long-O Day 1 (and a Yeovil Parkrun Recce)

Compass in one hand, dibber in the other!

Less than two months ago I was talked into entering the OMM (a two day adventure race in mountainous terrain). Shortly after that I had a super little introduction to orienteering as I was invited along to a casual club event. It was a 30 minute urban score, which means you have 30 minutes to get as many controls (check point thingies) as you can, in any order you like. 

My girlfriend (and OMM partner) wanted to suss out my navigation skills and I think she was quietly impressed as I navigated successfully around the course. She wasn't as impressed by my sense of humour, "What does that little green cross mean?", "That's a significant bush". With significant bush to find, my new love of orienteering was born and I set about finding other events to enter. I spotted a two-day event in the Quantocks/Exmoor which described itself as "ideal training for the OMM". It also described itself as "not suitable for novices" but with my singular orienteering success behind me, I thought I'd be just fine.

Everyone hiding from the rain before the start

Day 1 didn't start until lunchtime so I had plenty of time to make my way to Somerset. It made perfect sense to go via the new Yeovil parkrun at Montacute House and break up the journey with a 5k run. 

The house itself is a marvelous sight (even in the rain) surrounded by spectacular ornamental pathways and courtyards. I only had time for a little investigate before heading over to the start area. Disappointingly, you don't get to run through/around any of the interesting stuff; the course takes you on a little lap and then a big lap of the grounds. The whole route is on grass and although it isn't hilly, running on soft grass certainly does sap the energy out of the legs! One of the best things  though about having a parkrun in the grounds of a National Trust property is that the toilets were positively luxurious, what a treat!

You don't run through this...

...or this

A glorious 25% road led up through thick fog to a flagged car park. On any other day I would be wishing I was on my bike with hills like that to play on, but not today, today I was excited for an orienteering adventure. Day 1 was a 3 hour score event with 21 potential controls to bag along the way. The whole thing was pretty much being run out of a van, and displayed in the window of the van was a version of the map without the controls. My heart sunk; the features were scarce and the contours were abundant. Being that my previous orienteering experience was on an urban map with very easy roads and obvious paths to follow, this was definitely going to be a bit more err.. challenging!

I set out keenly, jogging along an obvious path and past controls that were set out for the kids. Just past one of the controls was a sign with a sad face on it, I hoped that this wasn't some sort of secret orienteering language that meant 'don't go this way'. I headed across rough, gorse-covered moorland looking for my first control, I couldn't find it. I ran around a few times and went back to the path to get my bearings again. I could see another orienteer in the area but it looked like he couldn't find it either. Not being a patient type of character, I decided to ditch this one and try to find another.

The next one was on a steep bank that led down to a river. The entire bank was covered in ferns that were chest height on me and try as I might, I couldn't find this one either. It was not a good start. I ran back to the path and navigated around the edge of the forest looking for a "significant tree" to locate my next control. To be honest, all the trees looked significant, it was a forest! By this point, 45 minutes had passed and I started to wonder if I would find anything at all.

I delved into the forest proper, hoping that the river and some big tracks would lead me to success. I was looking for a point where two paths met next to the river. When I got there, I looked up to where the control should be. It was up very steep hill with no sort of path. I trudged up very steadily, grabbing hold of trees as I struggled to keep traction. Out of nowhere, there was a teeny platform with a control on it. I was so elated to have actually found one, it had only taken an hour! After just about managing to stay upright as I skidded back down the bank, I went on to have a mini string of success as I took some bearings, did things properly and baggsied another two controls.

Description should be "small rock", not "crag" #justsayin

From here I only had a couple of choices. The scoring system meant that I could only go for controls that were of equal or greater value than my last control. I jogged along a good track through the forest, making a beeline for a 30-pointer that was located by a "crag" on a steep bank next to the path. According to the contours, the crag should be around 10m lower than the path, easy to spot, surely? I ran up and down looking for it, nothing. Exploring the steep bank was treacherous and I was falling all over the place but I was absolutely determined to find this one. Eventually (about 30 minutes after I'd started looking) I spotted something grey through the trees and fell over twice as I headed for it as I didn't want to take my eyes off it for a second! It was absolutely not a crag. What is more amazing than actually finding it is the fact that someone else came upon this tiny feature in the middle of a steep-sided, tree-filled bank to put it there in the first place!

Orienteering really is a bit bonkers; it's like going on the most confusing trail run ever crossed with a very difficult treasure hunt. It's a true adventure sport, they have you going over all terrain regardless of how impassable it first appears. I failed to find the 40-pointer I'd hoped to find near the finish, arriving back with plenty of time to spare and a new found respect for orienteering.

Bring on Day 2!

Wingin' It

The theme of all race-related activities this year has been "winging it". It's actually pleasantly surprising what the body can do on an average fitness base and a mind that believes it is capable. It's very refreshing to switch the focus to doing stuff because you want to do it rather than feeling that you must do it. My training calendar is by no means empty, it just all goes in there retrospectively  in a very unstructured manner.

I admit though, there has been a niggling feeling that I'm not quite reaching my potential with this blasé attitude. This feeling was fully realised at the National Triathlon Club Relays, an event I'd done twice in the past. The relays are a fun, team event that some teams take very seriously and others absolutely do not. Our team was called "Team Wing-It" and epitomised the very nature of the name in every way. We weren't stressed by finish times or pre-race nutrition or any of the usual nonsense; frankly we were more concerned about posing in our team capes and looking like superheroes.

The Fabulous Forestman Middle

I’ve said all year that I wasn’t going to race. Although I’ve been back running and cycling since the end of March, everything has been at a fun, easy and sociable pace and if I’m honest, I didn’t want to disappoint myself by being much slower in a race compared to this time last year.

A bit of triathlon passion was reignited last weekend as I went to support friends at the UK Ironman 70.3. One friend had hardly trained at all due to an injury and made it way beyond her initial goal of "the first buoy" and all the way to the end of the bike. The other, my previous training buddy turned triathlon superhero, Ruth, absolutely stormed it round the course. I was having a marvelous time supporting but I couldn't help feeling a little bit jealous.

Fortunately, due to an evening involving wine a few months ago, I had entered the Forestman Middle distance. This was a new addition to the well-established Forestman family run by the brilliant Race New Forest team and involved one lap of Ellingham Lake (1.2km), a 60 mile loop in the New Forest and a hilly, off-road half marathon. For the vast majority of those few months, I was pretty certain that I wouldn't actually do the race but seeing a whole host of people running ecstatically through the finish line at Wimbleball gave me the boost I needed. I was rather looking forward to getting my teeth into a triathlon.

Having not been swimming since December 8th (I don't know why I remember the date, but I do), the plan was merely to finish the swim gently, push hard on the bike and do my best to enjoy the run. Some doubters - who will not be named - said I wouldn't be able to stick to this plan and that I would see red and get carried away. I'm glad to say, they were wrong.

As it turns out, when you don't have high expectations of yourself or put a lot of pressure on yourself, these triathlon thingies can be thoroughly enjoyable and dare I say, fun, experiences. The water at Ellingham was perfect, a little bit of argy bargy at the start (which I mostly created myself) but after five minutes or so I had my own water and settled into a good, steady rhythm. Halfway around the loop I couldn't help wondering why on earth I'd stopped doing this in the first place, it was lovely!

I trotted over to the transition tent and had a fairly leisurely time getting my socks and gloves on, none of this stressful rushing business. Once I was away on the bike though, I found my race face. Despite not doing any even remotely fast cycling in the last few months, I found some pace and started chasing down anybody I could see ahead of me. I savagely attacked my banana, tearing it from the side with my teeth to avoid having to slow down. I was actually a little too out of breath to eat properly; wild open-mouthed chewing ensued as I focused carefully on not inhaling it. Luckily nobody witnessed this fairly disgusting display.

The tailwind at the back end of the loop was a joy, everybody was flying along having a jolly marvelous time. I battered myself up Ornamental Drive, especially as I saw my main rival my lovely fellow clubmate, Nicky Yevko up ahead. I failed to look casual as I breathlessly passed her.

Loving the support and picture taking
from Davie! 

I had gone out quite hard on the bike but I managed to keep the pace going through the undulating route. Various friends and clubmates were out on the course shouting support generally being brilliant. Hearing someone go a little bit mad and screaming your name does wonders on a long race! Every time I saw a girl on a bike ahead of me I just couldn't help myself, I didn't care if they were in my race or not, I was going to catch them. I had some good banter with a few blokes as well, as we played cat and mouse up and down the hills.

The final stretch, right into a strong headwind, was a killer on the legs. I could have been sensible and cranked down the power a little bit, but I was having far too much fun having some back and forth with a chap from Andover Triathlon Club called Nick. In fact, if it wasn't for Nick, I think I wouldn't have enjoyed that last little bit at all.

Looking like I'm having a much better
time than Ruth!!

T2 was quick and running actually felt quite nice and easy compared to pushing so hard on the bike. That's not to say I was running fast, but it felt light. A mile up the road and I hit the Salisbury Tri Club aid station, where I stopped briefly for a little chat with the crew. The little chats were plentiful on the run, I was taking it really rather easily and as a result, I was having a great time. I stopped to assess the snacks at all the aid stations (Southampton Tri Club were the clear winners with a choice of biscuits and the biggest sack of jelly babies I have ever witnessed) and got to know a couple of other triathletes on the course. The whole atmosphere was so friendly, everybody was cheering on everybody else and it was all very sporting.

I was soon caught by the Yevko, the running machine that she is. She actually lost herself a good half a minute or so by slowing down and having a quick chat before shooting off into the distance. I managed to keep jogging up the last big hill before getting back to the STC stand, with only one mile to go I picked up the pace and gleefully made my way back to Sandy Balls and a big welcome at the finish line.

I felt totally elated. I'd pulled a triathlon out of the bag and I'd really, truly enjoyed the whole experience.

1000 Miles in May

I've missed big cycling epics. Winter was especially unkind to the cyclists of Britain and only the truly hardy and dedicated (of which, this year, I was not) have reached spring in good fitness. Whilst I've dabbled a bit on the bike in March and April I am a long way away from the pedal power I had at this time last year.

12 Week Challenge, Week 1, Day 1

I weighed in on day 1 at bang on 59kgs this morning. No wonder pull ups have been feeling harder. So, the goal for the 12 weeks is to lose 6kgs. Half a kilogram (around 1lb) each week, simple.

That is all!

The 12 Week "Dietary Clean-up" Challenge

It's been a while since I've embarked upon a challenge. To be completely honest I haven't been in the right frame of mind for it for the last few months. I lost the usual Eggy zest as I hit a bit of an emotional dip and am only just starting to recover from what has seemed like the longest bout of insomnia ever. Over this time my physical activity levels dropped dramatically, comfort eating rose up and reigned over healthy choices and I felt highly stressed in general. I ended up feeling a bit like a big, fraught, tired, unhealthy blob. There is, however, light at the end of the tunnel.

What To Do When You Don't Finish

It was mental torment. From mile 4 my knee was niggling with the odd sharp twinge. My throat was still sore from a dirty virus that's been sitting in it and I just wasn't feeling my normal energetic self. Despite doing my best to ignore all of that, my mind was playing games; I couldn't decide if I was being a total wuss and needed to give myself a good talking to or if I should just stop before I make any of it any worse.

Daring to do the Dart 10k

I have written many a time of my convoluted love/hate relationship with swimming. It seems that if I am not training for anything in particular then I really rather enjoy it and get on just fine, but as soon as a goal is up ahead, all swim systems crash and the hatred begins. It's not that I hate swimming itself, I just hate not being very good at it.

One Month 'til Wimbleball

I woke up in a panic this morning having just accidentally snoozed for half an hour. It didn’t really matter as I had promised myself that today would be a restful one; I wasn’t getting up at 5 to fit in a long ride before work or drive somewhere half an hour away to swim in a (still really cold, it’s May!!) lake. I wasn’t ensuring I was at the gym bang on 6 to fit in a quick swim and decent strength session before dashing off to be in work for 8. I didn’t have a complex bag packing system to organise; involving three different sets of kit and ensuring that my trainers and a carb gel are right at the top ready for a super fast brick transition (non triathlete translation: jumping off the bike and – as quickly as possible – going out for a run). In fact, all I needed to do was get up, eat breakfast and get to work. Easy!

Cheer Up Challenge

It turns out having an achy back doesn't really suit my lifestyle. As much as I hate to admit it, I have been a little bit grumpy for the past few days. Of course Egg-style grumpy is most people's normal emotional state but I need to pick myself back up and get back to my normal overly-cheery self.


As a result of not being able to do my usual exercise and having serious bike withdrawal symptoms, I've even been laying in bed lazily in the mornings rather than the usual jumping up and hitting the day with a running start. Not only that but the eating has gone downhill too, more than downhill actually, more like fallen off a cliff! I've been finding myself exhibiting zero willpower and have been letting myself have any treats going "because I have a sore back". I amazed the ladies in my office as I recalled my attack of the munchies one evening last week, I'm even too embarrassed to say what I ate but it was pretty impressive.

Unnecessary Eating

Yesterday I had a bit of a blip. A wonderfully light and crumbly, home-baked scone made by a brilliantly talented office buddy had left a sweet taste in my mouth. I was walking home past Waitrose and decided to go in and torture myself. I started out well; perused the bakery aisle, oogled the cakes and the freshly-baked, chewy, chocolately cookies. I spent some time in the baking aisle and briefly daydreamed, realising I was surrounded by world of limitless, delightful possibilities.


The biscuit and confectionary aisles called out to me. In Waitrose the force in these aisles is stronger than other supermarkets because there are some seriously scrumptious and exclusive products to tantalize the taste buds. I scrutinised the posh biscuits and managed to tear myself away only to be faced with an enormous range of biscuits for cheese! I stood and imagined a smearing a thick layer of Boursain atop a salted and cracked black pepper thin or a slicing a well-softened brie onto a hovis digestive...


More mental agony occured in the frozen section as I ran the tips of my fingers over the cool, frosted tops of many a luring and luscious flavour of ice cream.

Challenge 5000

To be honest I started this blog so that my family could keep updated with my antics and so that I could indirectly inform them when I've fallen off the wagon and am lying face down in a ditch covered in cake.


Ten and a half months later and I have a core reading group of family, friends and random people from 45 different countries! Who on earth my readers are in Ecuador,The Philippines and South Korea I may never know.. but I really appreciate the support and the kind and funny comments that people send me either directly on the blog or on facebook, twitter, email and text.


On Sunday I was absolutely astounded to reach the 5000 hit marker, and promptly decided that 5000 hits calls for a celebration. To celebrate a whole lot of going healthy, I thought that a challenge might be in order! I put this idea out to the masses and recieved some excellent, some wildly outrageous and some utterly ridiculous ideas!


One that kept coming up again and again was to "eat 5000 calories".. not exactly in the spirit of Egg Goes Healthy methinks but even more importantly, not really a challenge either. I could easily do that accidentally at an all you can eat buffet or at one of my mum's Sunday roasts!


I had to veto "wing walking at 5000ft" on the grounds that I'm trying to stick to my New Year's Resolution of staying out of A+E. My sister came up with an inspired idea that for every 50 portions of fruit and veg I have to have 0 bars of chocolate and 0 cookies (but at every 50 I would be allowed a treat), but I would need to come up with some sort of counting system for fruit and veg.. this may be something I take forward at a later date!

However, a few people suggested a 5000m swim. I love this idea as it would indeed be a bit of a challenge and something I would have to put in a bit of training for. Another idea was to ascend 5000 steps; and to give you a bit of an idea of how many that is, there are 1860 steps up the Empire State Building!

As I really like these ideas, I'm going to do both.. in one weekend epic. I need to locate a 5k organised swim and figure out the best way of climbing 5000 steps. Time for a bit of research!

I'd be very happy for any (sensible!!) suggestions.