Back to a semblance of normality this week, with the kids both in school/nursery. Unfortunately I wasn't able to truly capitalise on the time off to get back into training, because I'm still not fully recovered, but I've been doing a little session each day and enjoying doing something. I'm still a bit gunky though, so full-on training is not yet imminent. I even - by choice - avoided my beloved spin session on Tuesday because I knew it would set me back too far. I was aiming instead to do my usual hefty transitions session on Thursday in the gym, but when it came down to it I discovered that I could only do 4 of my usual 6 reps, and at a reduced intensity too. By the end of the 4th rep I was reducing the speed on the treadmill every 20 seconds and my pulse was still rocketing. So I resigned myself to a good stretch and the chance to go shopping for wedding shoes. Not mine, you understand, but for my brother's nuptials which rapidly approach (although I bought a dress at the end of last year, my accessories are somewhat lacking). I've done rather a lot of shopping this week actually, in a bid to use up vouchers at Sisley which were about to expire (in the end I went off on so many shopping tangents that it took me 2 consecutive mornings to get there!) Hopefully I'll get back to training soon then, so I stop spending so much money! I just love this time of year in the shops when the dull and dowdy khakis and woollen blacks of winter get replaced by the bright cotton colours of spring.

My dad visited earlier in the week for a couple of days, while spending his days at the Fabric Show. He gave us a little picture of the stress they're undergoing in Shropshire as they downsize, and it sounds pretty hectic. The kids enjoyed seeing him here and bouncing him awake in the morning, and spent the following hours devastated at his absence. Luckily we're visiting Nana this weekend (so that I can lend a hand to my parents) which should provide ample distraction.

I've discovered that the uncoordinated half term issue continues to Easter holidays when Jody breaks up 2 weeks before Miles, and goes back to school 1 week before he does. Given that we're away in Spain for that first week, and I was planning to spend the second in Shropshire, I think we'll just have to take Miles out of school for a fortnight which is entirely against my principles. So annoying that so many schools are doing different things around the super-early Easter we have this year; many of the mums in this neighbourhood are faced with the same issue including Toria whose 2 eldest girls' holidays don't overlap at all. Just what you need with a new baby in the house.

In fact I can't believe how fast spring is approaching. It's March tomorrow and it feels like yesterday that I saw the whole of winter's training period stretching out ahead of me. I just hope that I haven't lost too much with these serial viruses and that I can get back to some decent training and racing over the next few months. Granted the half ironman isn't until June, but 3 months of training suddenly doesn't seem like much.

Had a very lovely but rather drunken meal out with Roj at Michael Moore last Thursday. We decided against the tasting menu because of the alcohol factor (when we succumbed to the wine tasting menu at the Orrery to accompany the food tasting menu a couple of months ago, we found it way too much), but ended up necking a glass of bubbly each, followed by a shared bottle of red and a generous glass of port, causing me a headache until the middle of the following afternoon. The food, however, was pretty delicious especially the first course of crispy duck salad (tenuously named, mind you, with barely a sprig in sight), followed by a strange but tasty bream gratin on crispy vegetable spring rolls for me, and Swedish elk for Roj (very rich and gamey but super-tender.) Lovely molten chocolate creation for pudding too, which is not usually my style but is making my mouth water as I write. Yum.

Also ate out at Giraffe on Friday (I love these breaks from endless meal-making, much as I enjoy that too, sometimes), but this time with Nana and Zoe who were making a fleeting visit to London to check out horse therapy equipment. The kids were pretty tired at the end of the week and the food would have been bettter if it had arrived 20 minutes earlier instead of our initial order getting lost in the ether, but it was good to see Nana and Zoe enthusing about their Shropshire equine project.

Went for a run on Friday morning: 1 lap round Regent's Park which took around 25minutes. Felt like I was running in treacle. After I got to the flat bit near the zoo I looked at my pulse and it was 167. I was barely going faster than a leisurely walk and it would normally have been - at that pace - about 153. I was gasping for breath like an asthmatic and I couldn't shift the gunk on my chest. I then felt much worse for the rest of the day, culminating in a fairly chronic cough by bedtime. I really thought I'd screwed it up for myself and by Saturday morning I knew it wasn't going to be possible to do the sportive on Sunday. I was gutted and spent the rest of the day in a big angry fug. I just couldn't believe that I could be entering my 4th week off training without any light at the end of the tunnel.

We went off hunting for bathroom sanitary-ware in the morning. In vain it turned out, other than to rule out due to ugliness the only Duravit sink that could fit our space: Back to the drawing board then. Roj kindly gave me some time in the afternoon (or, more accurately, escaped my temper), by taking the kids to the playground so that I could sort my bike out; cleaning it up and adding a few of the new bits I've been buying over the last few weeks from Wiggle. I also intended to sort out my old Ribble road bike for use as a wet weather training bike, but after spending quite a lot of time cleaning it and assessing it, it became clear that the cost of sorting it out would far exceed the value of the machine. It was kept out on the terrace in our mews house (albeit covered) and its prior owner (naming no names Roj) doesn't know how to clean a bike (ahem). Therefore its tyres and tubes were rotten, a quick release was shot, the saddle was rusted and degenerating, the pedals needed replacing, the frame was speckled with rust, and just about every cable and moving part would need replacing. Never mind upgrading the old 8-speed gearing on the thing, which would entail upgrading the shifters as well.

After much deliberation, Roj and I agreed that we don't really have room for me to have an extra bike anyway, and that I'd be better off just swapping wheels in unsavoury weather (it's mostly my race wheels that need preservation, since they comprise about half the value of the bike, and are not entirely impervious to the elements). So with a little nostalgia, I took my last photo of my first ever road bike before allowing Roj to take it downstairs to the black bins where it vanished within the hour. I had many a good ride on that machine but hopefully somebody somewhere will be happy to give it a little tlc and nurse it back to some kind of life. Sniff.

Sunday was a little better. We spent the morning in Hyde Park again with the kids on their bikes. Jody was complaining at the lack of downhills but Miles was super-confident this time and wanted to ride the whole time on a circuit that geekily I've mapped out on mapmyrun.com, and amounts to just over 3 miles. Bravo!

In the afternoon we once again braved the bathroom showrooms and luckily discovered that the basins we'd settled on were entirely inappropriate and block-like. Drawing board mark II.

And then we got back and I did boring credit card statement stuff and prepared my bike for a ride early Monday morning. Yes ... you heard me right ... exercise! And this time it went OK. Granted I reckon my pulse was still a bit high, and I took it easy on my 5 yo-yo loops of Regent's Park, but it was a good start to my recovery training and I felt really energised mid-morning for the first time in several weeks (and before the tiredness hit me, caused by going to sleep after midnight and getting up before 5:30am).

Very excited to be back to it, but still nursing my fragile health with easy workouts and plenty of nutrients. Can't afford to catch anything else now, when my immune system is still a little compromised. Am banking on spin tomorrow night though, being my hard session for the week, and then the very very slim possibility of a road race - at last - on Sunday! We shall see! Don't tell Sod.

Miles is doing his own training, but underwater. He has truly turned into a fish at his Swimming Nature lessons and literally spends the entire time ducking underwater to tickle my feet. Goggles and a more abrupt and energetic teacher seem to have boosted his confidence. And with only 2 more months beore he starts doing 1 on 2 sessions without me there, I'm glad he's finding his fins, as it were.

I've also commemorated his growing maturity by finally removing the bedguard that prevents him from falling out of the bottom bunk. He doesn't wriggle much while asleep and I think he'll be fine, but I'll be keeping half an ear out for big clunks in the night for the first few days.

If only progress also ran to the nappy thing.

Got a call from Jody's school nurse at lunchtime yesterday. Only takes a few seconds for visions of the worst possible accidents to go through your head, but it turns out she had a bit of a fall onto concrete in the park and got herself a nasty bruise/graze on her forehead. The school like to warn parents whenever there's an incident of this kind, so that they don't get too shocked at pick-up time. Poor thing was very brave and good and had spent the whole afternoon, it seems, luxuriating in the extra care bestowed on her by her teachers: "I got to be the leader even though I didn't have the merit!" "I got to sit on a chair instead of sitting cross-legged on the floor, so no-one bumped into my head!" And the clear winner: "I got to lie down on the bench with my head on Miss Barton's lap!" Obviously the events are perpetuating Jody's love-affair with her class teacher, of which I thoroughly approve. I gave her plenty of treats and love myself, when she got home, although she wasn't feeling sorry for herself in the slightest. Funny that she gets worked up about the most miniscule of little cuts but when she hurts herself more seriously, it's water off a duck's back.

As for myself, I am still, predictably, thoroughly peeved, and on the verge of visiting the doc to see if a miracle cure has been invented for viral infections since the last time I got turned away. My cold's gone all chesty now. I'm going running at the weekend though, no matter what. And I'm still not ruling out the SWRC sportive on Sunday even though I said earlier in the week that I wouldn't do it if I was still feeling dodgy by Thursday. The thing is, you can quite easily take a sportive a bit easy, and though I'm not inclined to do so, if the alternative is festering on the sofa at home, I might just force myself. I know a couple of girls going who are slower than me so if I go at their pace I should be ok. We'll see.

Roj and I are, as usual, fighting over furniture decisions. We managed to order completely the wrong type of item last week from a shop which doesn't have a viable return policy. I think our only real option is eBay, although I can't imagine us getting more than a third of our money back. Sigh. Now Roj has decided we need a big coffee table in our sitting room when I'm adamant that floor space is more valuable. Obviously it's just a difference of opinion but we're headlocked in our usual stubborn stalemate which can only end in one of us backing down and feeling put out to be so. Same old drill.

My parents move tomorrow from the house that has been their project for the last 25 years or more. OK they're moving to a (self-build) which has been their project for the last 2, so there's already plenty invested, but I admire them making the move with such enthusiasm. I'm looking forward to visiting them in their new abode, complete with under-floor-heating and proper guest accommodation. I just hope they manage to shoe-horn themselves into a house that's about a quarter the size of their current living space without too much trouble. It would help if BT would allow them a land-line in a place where there is no mobile coverage, and if the builders had got the place complete as promised, but initial teething-troubles over I'm sure it'll be wonderful. Especially with springtime just around the corner.

I'm going through a bit of a 'life is dull' phase. Obviously this relates to my physical stagnation more than anything, but I'm finding it hard to be positive about much. I'm loving a little time with the kids at half term, but with no bigger picture to look at, the little details are driving me slightly potty. When routine runs your life ... particularly the routine of others ... it's hard not to get bogged down. But while sitting in Starbucks this morning treating my son to [yet another] hot chocolate (I kid myself; I was treating myself to a capuccino; he just happened to provide me with a good excuse), I was vaguely aware of a business conversation occurring at the table next to us about highlighter pen orders and the number of stationery cupboards in the office. For a brief moment the world of what-to-make-for-kids'-lunch and tidying-up-the-lego-for-the-nth-time became fascinating!

I've reached the bottom of the pit of training desperation. Tonight is the 3rd spin session in a row that I'm going to have to miss because of this cold. I know - I'll look back in 3 months' time and forget it ever happened - but for now, it's beyond frustrating. And I'm improving at snail's pace, gaining miniscule health points very infrequently. At this point I'm very very skeptical about Sunday's sportive, even if I take it slow. Sob.

So it looks like my dad will have to sit in an empty house next Tuesday evening when he visits because there's no way I can possibly miss 4 spins!

Half term with Miles is much like each week with Miles. We've pottered around the neighbourhood and we have a few playdates planned, but generally speaking that's as far as it goes. He still needs a short post-lunch nap and we still need to do Jody's school routine in the mornings and afternoons. It's nice to see a bit more of him mind you, and to have him to myself without Little Miss Hurricane shaking things up for me. I took him for lunch at Starbucks yesterday and he just methodically tucked into his sandwich and his hot chocolate until everything was gone. As a slow eater this took about 45 minutes, but for the duration he just sat quietly at the table and got on with it; no running around and exploring the space under every table; no opening the door every 5 minutes; no wriggling around to make sure he's on the most comfortable seat; and no loud screechy noises. No ants in Miles's pants.

Got a big order from Wiggle yesterday, which promotes me to platinum status (even more savings to be gained!) This means that I must get on and sort out my old Ribble road bike as a winter training bike. It's just ridiculous to keep trashing my finely-honed (ish) race machine each time I want to get a winter ride in. Plus I look like an idiot with my deep rims in January. That's another project for the back-burner then.

Lovely couple of days but, excuse me for getting obsessed, I STILL CAN'T TRAIN. In fact I think I even have the beginnings of a new sore throat to add to the mix. I had high hopes of being able to start again this weekend but at this rate it's going to be another week before I'm able to do anything. So now I'm looking at the possibility of having to ditch another race - a sportive this time - if I'm not better by next Sunday. Frustrated? Exasperated? Me? It literally feels like months since I was last able to do anything. I'm feeling slow and lethargic and fat. Ridiculous.

The loveliness in the last couple of days came from Valentine's evening with a delicious meal (or so Roj claimed - I couldn't taste anything so I couldn't tell you) of sea bass and Fromagerie cheeses with too much port (or so my head told me the next morning). Roj to great credit came in not only with the [promised] cheese and port but also with a bouquet of very striking flowers and my favourite coffee chocolates. Which all made for a very luxurious and enjoyable evening and rather a rare treat to be so.

And then an evening yesterday with my university housemates and our other halves at Carluccio's in South Kensington. 2 buns in the oven announced, new partners introduced and plenty of fun had by all. Very very enjoyable.

I'm suffering today though, for having been out on the razz 2 days in succession. I felt like crawling into bed at about 2:30pm, exacerbated by the fact that the other 3 members of my family did! A good night's sleep is much needed to recuperate. I'm sure it's not helping my view on this stubborn lurgy.

Lots of very positive housey things achieved today. We put some pics up on the wall, we updated some of the photos in our frames, we bought a couple of minor bits of furniture and a bedspread, and repotted a couple of little plants. All insignificant things on the list that nevertheless contribute to a more comfortable and snug environment. And most importantly the possibility of throwing out the 3 surplus uncoordinating sofa cushions that have adorned the sitting room for the last year in place of a decent footstool. The kids have loved creating tunnels, slides and hidey houses from them but they're a bit of an eye sore nonetheless.

Tomorrow; not the road race I hoped for, nor even a gentle jog at this rate. A lie-in hopefully, and perhaps some more house chores. We have nearly decided on the people to renovate our bathrooms but have yet to settle on what they will renovate with. Bathroom showrooms here we come. Snore.

Marginally better today: I didn't wake with a throbbing sinus headache and I could actually breathe through one nostril. I'm not sprinting to the gym just yet, but I have thoughts of a possible short run tomorrow morning to see how it goes. More improvement needed first though. It's certainly a relief to see that my immune system does work, even if it takes a while to kick in.

Jody's half term is a mixed blessing. I've very much enjoyed having some time to myself with her and it's made me realise what a rare event that is. On Friday afternoons she comes home from school at midday so when Miles naps I have an hour or two with her, but generally speaking she's so tired from the school week that there's not much bonding going on. It's lovely to have her to myself and - hopefully - make her feel that I'm really there for her and interested in what she's doing on a personal level. Granted, we've run a few errands together this week but she's actually been really conscientious and patient with me, and I've made sure I've rewarded her and tried to fit in plenty of stuff that she's chosen to do as well. It really helps that the weather is so utterly gorgeous. I've almost forgotten the hellish stuff we got for the whole of January!

The down side is that she's getting overtired again. Whether it's because she hasn't fully kicked her cold, or because she's got so much residual exhaustion left over from a tough half term at school, I don't know, but yesterday afternoon she was acting like a 2-year-old in the garden square, much to my embarassement. She was niggling Miles to the point where he gnashed his teeth, she was being loudly stroppy and brattish (when a neighbouring girl came in blowing on a whistle, she loudly exclaimed "Well I can whistle without a whistle, and I can go faster than Poppy (18 months Jody's junior) on my bike!" while demonstrating the point by doing a loop of the garden on her bike chanting "Look how fast I am! See! Look at me!") She has also hit on a plan for every time I tell her not to do something, whereby she acts utterly devastated and starts claiming that I don't love her and I don't want to be her mummy any more and so on. It's fairly heart-breaking to hear that sort of thing said by this bedraggled little character but unfortunately I suspect it's just a ploy to get me to renounce my discipline. I'm doing my best to reassure her that it's my job to tell her when she's doing something wrong, but it doesn't mean I stop loving her. I expect a bit more positive affirmation is in order.

The tired stroppiness in the garden square culminated in her throwing a large pebble at me after threatening to hit two of the other kids playing in the garden with it. We had a bit of a discussion about how that wouldn't be a good idea, which I thought she'd followed, but when I turned my back I felt a thud as the stone hit me between the shoulder blades (good shot, Jody). I very calmly turned round and explained to Jody that it was unacceptable but she disintegrated into a wailing wreck until we got to the flat, probably enticing all the residents of Montagu Square to twitch at their venentian blinds to see whose brat was making such a racket. Sigh.

I tried to get them into bed with no further disruption and they're sleeping soundly until just past 7 in the mornings these days. I'd expect 11.5 hours of sleep to be enough for Jody but it just doesn't seem to be right now. We'll have to plan a weekend getaway at some point so that she can sleep in the car.

Strangely I'm almost grateful that I've been ill this week because it gives me an excuse to enjoy my half terms with the kids without getting frustrated at how much training I'm missing. I also know that at this time of year - while it's agonising being ill at any time - a couple of weeks off is really not going to harm the schedule too much. I'm a bit sad that I won't make it to this Sunday's road-race, but I've got another sportive next Sunday which I should definitely be up for. It probably does me good to have this enforced rest.

Meanwhile I have to devise a strategy for Miles's half term next week. I'm vaguely considering booking a babysitter for one day during his afternoon nap so I can nip to the gym. Otherwise it'll be an awful lot of early morning sessions.

My night sweats have totally abated this week. It's difficult to know whether that's the result of a lot of sage (recommended by just about every source as a hormone-leveller), or just the lack of training over the last 10 days. It won't be until I'm back into the regime that I can really judge, but I'm keeping with the sage on the offchance that this unobtrusive little herb has such admirable healing power.

Happy Valentines Day. Sea bass (cooked as per my new cooking bible River Cottage Fish Book) and yummy French cheese to celebrate.

What a gorgeous weekend weather-wise. Shame I couldn't use it better for training purposes. The cold is still installed and refusing to budge. Granted today it's moved from my throat, but my nose still feels like it's been rammed full of concrete. I'm desperate to get back to training, but I know I'll only set myself back if I do. I'm going to be the good sensible girl [this time] and wait until I'm fully recovered. Which means forgoing another session of spin (sob), and probably not getting back to it until Saturday given that I can't do much in the week with Jody at home on half term.

I was truly miffed last Saturday. I'd had a week of apalling sleep, punctuated by sweats and child cries (Miles doesn't like being ill either); I'd missed a whole week of training through illness and my health was still deteriorating; I'd managed to eat the biggest pile of crap all week, probably adding to my health problems; I'd just found out that I was going to have to face 2 half terms instead of 1; I was left in sole charge of the kids while Roj was out on a race somewhere muddy and hilly rubbing my nose in it; and I had to gather the kids together for a party in the afternoon at Miles's peak nap time, hoping that Roj would get home in time for me to take the car (which he only just did). When I got home I was desperate for 20 minutes to sit down with a cup of tea and relax before making dinner, but instead I had to wander round the house wiping up numerous sports-drink related spills including soaking the bottom of our brand-newly-made curtains in the hope of stopping the stuff seeping its tide-mark to somewhere more visible, while the kids raced screaming round the house on a post-party sugar high. Great.

Nevertheless Sunday made up for it. What beautiful weather. We spent the morning on a foray to Hyde Park with the kids on their bikes. Jody was characteristically enthusiastic and even Miles got into his stride, surging off ahead when the opportunity arose (à la Tortoise and Hare). Having thought that he's been slower to start on the Like-a-bike than Jody was, I read back to my blog when she was his age, and found the description of her first ever ride on the thing which was wholly unsuccessful. So it appears he's actually progressing faster than her on something, which is something I don't find myself often saying (it's a boy-girl thing). We've decided that it's because she liked running everywhere (and couldn't keep her bum still on the seat for long enough), whereas he likes sitting down in every possible scenario. His approach to propulsion is leisurely and graceful whereas she always wanted to abandon the bike for a sprint session.

I escaped in the afternoon for some family-free time, but ended up stuck in a traffic jam for 50 minutes as I bypassed an anti-scientology demonstration on Tottenham Court Road. In the end I abandoned my browse of Heals and Habitat in favour of Waitrose (it still amazes me that in 75% of my free time at the weekends - outside of training - I end up doing the weekly grocery shop), and a quick stop in Emma Bridgwater where I was determined to buy 2 mini mugs for the kids and their hot chocolates despite having to fork out an outrageous £12 a pop to do so.

I've signed up for my BCF membership now, including race license. I'd like to say I'll try the race on Sunday but with my cold the way it is now, I'm rather sceptical that I'll be up for it. I'll be looking for some other opportunities though because it's really something that appeals. I've attempted one road race in my very distant past, but its standard was way way too high and I ended up off the back before the first lap was completed. A lot of that was to do with lack of warm-up and experience, but it certainly created enough demons for me to want to face them head-on. Plus ... any excuse to go fast on a bike against a bit of competition. Hehe.

The kids have been lovely today again. What a difference a bit of sleep makes. Angelic Jody happily sat at the side of the pool this morning with her colouring pencils while Miles had his lesson ("Got goggles, Mummy"), after which I felt obliged to treat them to playground time and Starbucks cakes. She then quietly did arts-and-crafts for the afternoon while Miles had his nap, and they are both quietly playing in the sitting room now. If the week continues in this vein, I'll be more than happy to do two half-terms in a row.

The first dreaded winter lurgy hit me on Sunday, just as I was wondering why I was feeling lethargic last week. The trip to Tarporley, though lovely, scuppered my normal training plans, although I took my bike expecting to start back to London on it on Sunday. On Saturday I went for a 6-7 mile run loop which unexpectedly turned into a nearly-13 miler. I didn't mind (especially since I skipped Wednesday's long run), although I went off harder than I would have done had I known I was going to be out for 2 hours ... and by the last 20 minutes I was dying for it to finish. Just shows that psychology is as important as physiology when it comes to preparation. Still ... I stopped 5 or 6 times for map-reading duty and got back in 2 hours, so think that I should actually be capable of a 1:45 half. I shall have to put my money where my mouth is at some point.

But the current obsession is trying out a road race sometime. There's a Surrey League that starts up for beginners in a couple of weeks within reach of London and I'm thinking I might swap the Dorney duathlons (hellish windswept boredom) for a bit of cycling. Still need to decide though, and then buy my BCF license and all that stuff. Hmmm.

Right now I'm not doing much. The sore throat descended on Sunday with a vengeance, quickly followed by the streaming cold that both kids are also fighting. I've been feeling sorry for myself all week, stuffing my face with creme eggs, shortbread and honey on toast. Sigh. Arbitrarily I'm aiming for my first day back to training to be Sunday ... but probably only a mild bike workout in the gym. We'll see.

I went to the doc yesterday to discuss my hormone issues. She seemed to gently concur with me about exercise being the cause of low oestrogen, but she sat on the fence enough to suggest I come off the Pill entirely and take blood tests in a couple of months to confirm. The annoying thing is that the blood tests will only confirm or negate the levels of hormones in my body, it will not explain why. So while I anticipate a fairly low oestrogen reading, I won't get any diagnosis as to whether that's due to my lifestyle or to early menopause (although doc did seem to think that if it was the latter, I'd be suffering other symptoms alongside the night sweats). The annoying thing now is that I have to be off the Pill for 8 weeks and if things are as I suspect, that means that my oestrogen will drop enough that I get these night sweats more frequently. Joy of joys. I hope it'll be worth the discomfort to get some kind of hormonal benchmark.

I have finally managed to secure our wireless network and get AirPort Expresses working on it simultaneously, having only managed one or the other to date. In fact the issue stemmed from a dodgy AirPort, rather than any schoolboy error on my part. Now we can use our printer wirelessly again, and hopefully listen to iTunes from either the kitchen or the sitting room without compromising our security in general. Which reminds me, I ought to sort out my playlists.

I think Miles is on that awful cusp between needing and not needing an afternoon nap. He's starting to object to the routine and, worse, stay awake chatting at bedtime in the evening. Yesterday he woke after an hour. I suppose I need to face up to it but I still value that daily hour and a half's nap to catch up on correspondence and get a few other tasks done that are boring for a toddler to be involved in. On the bright side it will mean that he's up for some afternoon activities and I remember being delighted when that time came with Jody, because we were no longer restricted to the house in the afternoon. Just right for Spring and Summer I suppose.

Half term for the next two weeks. In their wisdom, the nursery that Miles is at and the school that Jody is at have not coordinated their schedules (how dare they!) so I have Jody at home next week and Miles at home the following. Bang goes 2 weeks of training for me then. Of course my health hasn't coordinated with anything either, so in total I'll have 3 weeks of downtime, and I'm not happy about it. I will just have to hope to get back to it with a vengeance afterwards. Or maybe squeeze in some evening sessions to get the long stuff in. I'm quite happy to have the kids around though, particularly if the weather stays nice. This school schedule is all very well but I don't actually get much chance to go out and about with them. My main goal though, will be to cure Jody's chronic tiredness. She, too, needs to shake her cold and have some less demanding days so that she's back to our normal little angel. I'm convinced they teach her to grow horns and a forked tail at school!

The preferred theory, as suggested by Sam, is that my lovely night sweats - current bane of my life - are caused by my training regime and resultant body composition. After a bit of research on exercise-related hormone problems, I've confirmed that low oestrogen (which is the reason menopause happens, of which night sweats are usually a clear symptom) can be caused by a lot of training and a low body fat percentage. I've mostly seen discussions on amenorrhea, which is when periods stop altogether and is very commonly found in endurance athletes (I've seen statistics of around 50% of marathon runners being sufferers). I don't have this condition but it is also caused by low oestrogen and I am bang slap in the middle of the 3 risk factors for it: A lot of training, stress, and body fat under 20%. So although I don't have amenorrhea, I think it's safe to assume that I might be suffering another result of low oestrogen. This would also tie in with the fact that the sweats noticeably worsen in the week I don't take the Pill, when my oestrogen is not being boosted as it is when I take it daily.

If this is the case - and I guess I have to entrust a real diagnosis to my GP - I need to stay on the combined Pill rather than come off it, since that in itself is a way to boost my oestrogen. Other ways to do that are to put on body fat or reduce training. But we'll ignore those options for now!

Well it's a whole lot more palatable than an early menopause isn't it? Although to clarify, I never really thought I was suffering that, because I feel otherwise fine and am showing no other associated problems. But hearing it mentioned in the same sentence as my name still gave me the willies.

I trapped poor Jody's fingers in the window of the car this morning. She was playing around with it, as she does, and in the freezing weather I asked if she wouldn't mind keeping it shut. When she ignored me for the 3rd time, I took matters into my own hands by closing the window from the front and putting the window lock on, little realising that she'd stuck her fingers out of the gap. It took a couple of seconds of silence - during her intake of breath - before the screaming began and I realised what was happening. And she was seriously in pain, poor thing. I felt truly terrible, even though she calmed down very quickly (with the help of a couple of dolly mixtures) and told me gently as I walked her into school that she knows I would never do anything like that on purpose. Cue bleeding heart.

Off on an impromptu visit to Tarporley tonight to visit Grandad before some imminent surgery - the latest in his arterial saga, but hopefully not too serious this time. Will have to take my bike and hope to get a chance to ride at some point. Can't imagine not training for a whole weekend now; I felt bad enough after skipping Wednesday's long run. Something about maintaining a joint training diary adds pressure to the timetable. As PB says, it's not a competition as to who can train the most, but it certainly adds to the feelings of guilt when you skip a session. We all hope it's going to be a positive thing in the long run, with mutual support and inspiration, but there's a way to go until I feel comfortable having my schedule examined by near strangers. To be fair though, I think PB's comments made me realise that I'm actually pretty lucky to get the time I do have to train. I tend to think that my life's pretty crammed full and that I get little time to myself but those 3 delicious mornings, coupled with my early morning workouts and my single addictive evening away (usually necessitating a babysitter, unfortunately) actually combine to enable a fairly decent training schedule. I tend to look at the negatives; that I'm not often free to take a whole guilt-free day out of each weekend for a long ride, or that I can't make Thursday night's triathlon training in Battersea Park, or that I wish I didn't have to get up so damn early at the weekends, but actually I should feel grateful that I have the time that I do. Other people in my position are holding down full-time jobs as well as balancing parenthood and training. They deserve my respect and, actually, my sympathy.