The Dave Lloyd Mega Challenge: 140 miles, 5000 metres of ascent, and 11 hours 20 in the saddle in the North Wales hills: Done!

I didn't think I'd be able to manage that distance in those hills, so despite a time that was 20 mins slower than I was aiming for, I'm pretty happy with my result. Sven, on the other hand, came a brilliant 13th despite having to stop for 2 punctures. But after the brief discussion we had the previous evening about his years of massive hill riding in the Alps and the Pyrenees (usually 5 consecutive century rides at least), I can see why. I suppose I've never really properly taken account of all that he's done. But it goes a long way to explaining where he is now (that, and genetic bloody-mindedness!)

I enjoyed the experience to a large extent. The physical challenge was good though very unrelenting; there were few flat areas on the course and the road surfaces were pretty bad. I went through patches of extreme boredom and frustration, exacerbated by the fact that I rode nearly the whole route alone. And at times the torrential rain showers were enough to make you want to abandon and go home, but in the end it was easiest and wisest to just carry on turning those pedals, psychologically breaking it up into 30 mile sections between feed stations, and just trust that you could get to the end. Big hills though ... big big hills. But I cycled every inch of the way and surprised myself by doing that. I surprised myself entirely actually, by not hitting the wall but pushing through, and refuelling well too. My longest ever ride by 40 miles. Only 13 women entered the mega distance so we'll see how I did when the results come out, even though I didn't even attain a bronze standard (cyclosportives award gold, silver and bronze depending on your time back).

Thanks to my parents for making it all possible by looking after Jody and Miles for the weekend. They had a lovely time it seems, and were even relatively well behaved I think (Jody and Miles, that is, not my folks!). I just wish I hadn't attempted the drive to London in the evening. My dad drove me down to Cannock to relieve me of 1.5 hours of driving, but even the reduced 2.5 hour journey to London was a struggle on the back of a poor night's sleep and a 5:15am start in the campsite that morning. I had to work hard at staying awake, and even stopped off at a service station with a view to sleeping for half an hour before continuing, but settled instead for strong coffee. By the time I got back I was getting waves of nausea from the tiredness, and my vision was completely unreliable. The whole thing was very unnerving and ill-advised and I felt apalling that I was putting the kids at such risk.

The next event isn't until the mid-August London olympic tri, which gives me 6 weeks to get into regular training again. My back still hurts when I run but I'm hoping that 2 weeks in Egypt with the main possible activity being swimming will be the final recovery I need. It was still only 2 months ago, that crash, after all.

Jody and Miles break up at the end of next week for their summer holidays. They have a week at Miles's nursery together during 'summer school', and our 2 weeks in Egypt, but after that it will be up to me to devise a stimulating schedule of child entertainment. With a little help from neighbourhood playmates, hopefully.

Plenty of other projects on for the summer too: The usual house-clearing, eBay exercises as well as the long-awaited completion of these damn bathrooms. I can't believe it's taken so long. I'm reserving judgment on summer until I'm in the middle of it: Last year I thought it would be awful and had a lovely time so I'm sort of hoping for a repeat.

Training Diary 23-29 June
M: Rest day
T: Run to spin 15 min
    Spin 60 min
    Run from spin 20 min
W: Base endurance run. 70 mins incl. stretching
T: Day off
F: Day off
S: Day off
S: The Dave Lloyd Mega Challenge cyclo-sportive: 140 miles with around 5,000m ascent. North Wales. Hilly. 11:20:11. 6th out of 9 women; 141 out of 171 finishers.

Total: 14 hrs 05 mins

Looking for dresses sucks. I can't find anything and believe me I have scoured all the floors of Selfridges and plenty more besides including, this morning, Vivienne Westwood on Conduit Street because the closest dress in Selfridges was a Vivienne Westwood and I thought I didn't have anything to lose. However I did have my confidence taken down a notch or two by the snooty disdainful shop staff who were exactly how I imagined them in my worst nightmares and gave me a thorough visual dressing-down (me equipped with Mexx shopping bag, no make-up, trainers) and were extremely unhelpful and ridiculous. Plus the dress I tried on was five hundred quid. Not in this lifetime thank you ... I'd rather get a new bike.

However I now need to accept the fact that I'll be turning up to Roj's posh corporate do in ... jeans (as usual). Clearly this is not going to fly but right now I have little option. I've almost never been a dress person anyway and I'm swiftly concluding that it's because they just don't work on me. I either look like a drag queen or a beanpole with thick legs. Perhaps that's because I'm a beanpole with thick legs. Sigh.

I found some nice shoes though, to go with my nonexistent dress. Black suede peep-toes. 4 inches tall. Perhaps it's best if the nonexistent dress doesn't go with those.

PB is struggling with the thought that endurance sport is selfish. He's right of course but I still want to do it. I don't know ... something about spending all of my time looking after other people makes me feel I have the right to claim back some time for myself. Whether my situation (that I've entered into by choice) warrants 10 hours per week of selfish time is questionable but where am I going to draw the line? It's a tough one and it does plague me. Yi Shun's coach has also broached the subject of how to be more altruistic with this sport thing but I'm struggling for a way to do it that fits in with my tight schedule and my family obligations. I just don't feel right now like I have much more to give; I'm going to be selfish for now because selfish keeps me sane.

Goodness it's hard work throwing a children's party. And I can't quite put my finger on why. There's a lot of food preparation to do; cakes and sandwiches and chopping of carrots and celery and things. And there's plenty of purchasing to be made; party bag favours, paper plates and tablecloths, never mind monstrous amounts of food and drink. Then there are balloons to inflate and tables to decorate and generally a vast amount of things to take downstairs to the marquee in the garden to organise. But all of it is easy work; nothing involving too much thinking or effort. It's just a mass of tiny little tasks that take forever to complete. This year we cut it really fine and had about 2 minutes to spare before the first guests arrived. I don't want to do that again; I really thought we weren't going to make it.

And in the end the party was only mediocre. I mean I'm not aiming for something amazing and memorable, but above average would be good. Our entertainer was definitely a bit dull and standard. He didn't break once from a very boring routine and though he held the attention of the children (I suppose I ought to be grateful for that), he had no individual charisma. Very disappointing after paying a small fortune to Oscar's Den for the privilege. Should have probably asked Silly Millie back from last year, who was nothing if not outstanding.

I also employed him for too long, so that the entire party was taken up with entertainment, rather than allowing the kids to run around the garden square. I suppose it was sensible in that we'd had ample rain overnight so the grass and play areas were soaked through, but it would have been nice to have more time to mill around. As it was, there was just a layer of parents stuck around the perimeter of the marquee pretending to be interested in what the entertainer was doing. Which, as I've mentioned, they could not possibly have been.

Highlights, however, include my mum's legendary Pimms (which actually ran out this year, or very nearly), help from my beloved cleaner Olga who is truly dedicated to my kids, and the unexpected appearance of Nana to lend a vital hand in the final stages. Once again I would not have been able to carry it off without a good deal of help.

I think Jody enjoyed it. Who knows? She had a zillion presents to open at the end of it - which was kind of her focus - all of which were great. Only one barbie, only one pink horse (these were actually the first things she wanted to play with); lots of craft stuff, good books and a couple of interesting toys. Phew.

Thank goodness it's 12 months til the next one of those. Next time I will investigate my entertainer earlier and I will not be scared to let the kids have some unstructured time. And I will remember that children take 5 minutes to eat lunch, so I will have the cake on site earlier!

The preceding week was lovely. Yi Shun was an excellent house guest; one of those who would make herself a cup of tea if she wanted one, or help herself to something in the fridge without asking. And conscientous so that I didn't really notice the impact of having an extra person. Above all it meant that I had some interesting and intelligent adult company for the entire week, which was just lovely; lots of good conversation and psychoanalysis. Plus a very enjoyable sushi evening with the whole 70.3 crowd, a good Indian take-out with Emily and too much red wine, and even a couple of cultural visits. I dragged Yi Shun down to the Telectroscope in More London Place late last week, and loved it. We were there in the morning with Miles, so we wondered if anyone would be looking in the other end at 3am New York time, but there was one NYPD officer and a bunch of other interesting people. So much fun to grin and wave and see the lights of the Brooklyn Bridge in the background, and envisage its spot so clearly on the familiar South Street Seaporrt. Such a trip back to nostalgia, even though there was barely anything more than a darkened 10 foot square disc visible.

And we also went to the Hayward to see the Psycho Buildings exhibition which was entertaining and pretentious. We rowed ourselves around the roof terrace in Gelatin's incomprehensible installation Normally, Proceeding and Unrestricted Without Title, we bounced on the clear ceiling of Tomas Saraceno's Observatory, Air-Port-City, and we discussed the meaninglessness of, amongst others, the pendulous 'clove tits' of Ernest Neto's Life fog frog - Fog frog, and Atelier Bow-Wow's Life Tunnel 'birth canal' which, we decided, was infinitely more rectal. But there were a couple of structures there that were of interest, and it's always nice to get to an art gallery when there's not much opportunity. Plus we got to enjoy the small but perfectly formed Hyperbolic Crochet Coral Reef which was beautiful and vibrant and evocative. Interesting to see such a traditional and conformist craft challenging its reputation in a contemporary exhibition space.

I would have liked to have spent more time with Yi Shun, wandering the streets and visiting more shows or doing a spot of shopping, but I was, as usual, constrained by the timetables of the children. I keep thinking though, that it's only one more year before Miles is in school too, and then I'll have all the time in the world. Not necessarily to wander the city shopping and visiting galleries though, unfortunately!

So now I can settle down to a week of relative normality, barring the impending Dave Lloyd Challenge which might well prove itself to be outside of my capabilities. 140 miles in the north Wales hills is not something to be sniffed at. But at least I'm fairly fully recovered now. I'm still getting the odd twinge in my back but can't see that it will be restrictive. And I'm excited to get back to proper training, although realistically that won't happen until September. There are only 3 weeks of term left now, and two of those will mean tapering and recovery from this ride. I don't like to think of how summer will work in terms of my sanity, but I guess I'll find a way.

Training Diary 16-22 June
M: Rest Day
T: 15 min run to spin
    60 min spin
W: Day off
T: 1h 10min recovery run in Regent's Park with 3 x Primrose Hill reps
F, S, S: Off

Total: 2h 25 min

I'm hobbling around today ... but in a good way! Finished the UK Half Ironman yesterday in 6:40:27 and feel very good indeed about it. Deep down I wasn't sure I was able to finish on 6 weeks without training, even when I was already halfway into the run. It was only when I rounded the final lap marker to do the last 4.5 miles that I knew I could do it, albeit with a bit of walking on the uphills (like everybody around me). It's a super-hard course (billed by this month's 220 Triathlon Magazine as "the hardest middle-distance triathlon in the world" with a hilly bike leg and a nasty undulating run (mostly off-road) which all but killed me off. It was the Gatorade and bananas that got me through in the end, and the thought that I wasn't going to back out after 6 hours of hard work. And was it ever sweet crossing that finish line!

The 6am swim was better than expected. My time still wasn't fast (41:58), but I enjoyed the whole thing and didn't feel at all anxious. My new Aqua Sphere goggles helped a lot; a larger face-mask that didn't let in water nor fog up too much either. And Wimbleball Lake was clear and tasteless so a pleasure to swim in. The mass start was a bit of a worry so I hung back on the starting klaxon and took my time to cross the start line, then by the first buoy the field had thinned out significantly and I only bumped people 3 or 4 times. The biggest issue was the morning mist rising from the surface of the lake which made it impossible to see the buoys. You just had to follow the masses and hope you'd get there in the end. And then on the furthest turn, you rounded a buoy and had the rising sunshine in your eyes as well, obliterating any last vestige of vision. But it was a good swim and I felt happy and if not strong, at least confident.

The transition was a bit of a faff because you had to run to your pre-packed bike-leg bag in one tent, pick it off your peg, and run it into a different tent to change. And once you were bike-ready you had to pack your wet kit into the same bag and hand it to one of the attendants before you were ready for the off. Which meant I spent 8 minutes in T1 which seems ridiculous (something to do with the 400m uphill run to transition though, maybe).

But the bike was superb! Luckily I'd been able to borrow a front wheel from one of the friends who was staying in our B&B, because I'd discovered on Friday evening that the little 'prang' that Roj had had at Blenheim the week before had trashed my [brand new] HED rim. The mechanic at the expo said it was just about rideable but I'd have to be careful with the compromised braking power, which did not inspire me with confidence on a course where I'd be needing my brakes above all.

So with confidence in my wheels I set off at a storming pace and absolutely loved the course. It was my favourite mix of tribar work and hills (thank goodness I hadn't removed my tribars before the start, as I thought to do). I think it killed off plenty of people, with its short sharp ascents and manic downhills, but it was just my cup of tea. I couldn't surpress a cheesy grin for most of the way around because it was just so cool!

Unlike me, I even managed to do some moderate re-fuelling, with a couple of bananas and a litre or so of carbo drink (it was quite cold so I didn't need masses of fluid). I felt very smug to be doing the right thing!

I went past loads of people on the bike and felt great about it, but I knew I had to make hay because the run was going to be a nightmare. The thought of it oppressed me for practically the whole race ... and rightly so! But while I was on the bike and feeling reasonably strong, I was going to make the most of it and enjoy it. There was a very funny moment 10 miles from the end when I saw Emily up ahead of me struggling on one of the steepest ascents. From just behind her, I watched as she got slower and slower and finally just gave up altogether, allowing herself to fall - still clipped in to her pedals - onto the high green bank to her left. I gave her a shout of encouragement (to nettles avoidance) and cracked on, unable to resist a chuckle on the way! (I bet she wasn't the only one to whom that bank looked like an appealing resting place!)

I came into T2 - another faff - all excited and raring to go, but as soon as I set off on the run I knew I was going to struggle. The bike had clearly sucked some strength out of my legs, but the constant little ascents coupled with the twang I felt in my back each time my left foot hit the floor sapped my energy completely. I set out on the first loop determined to run the full 13.1 miles, but by the start of the second loop I already had to scale back my expectations and walk up the steepest hills. I really had to dig deep to find the wherewithal to complete the run leg, and suppress the intimidating thought that I had at least 2 hours of running before I could cross the finish line.

But I just kept putting one foot in front of the other, reassured by the knowledge that most people were having as hard a time as I was, and stopped at the feed stations to down cups of Gatorade and give myself 20 seconds of rest. And I tried not to look at the steady stream of people (all those I'd overtaken on the bike!) coming past me. The run was set up so that in various places you could see other people out on the course though, and I enjoyed cheering on some of my fellow Serpies, Emily, and my cousin Paul (who ended up with a magnificent 5:55 finish time).

So finally I crossed the line after completing the half marathon in 2:09:41. And really enjoyed catching up with Christian and Dian who'd come to watch Paul race and whose voices had spurred me on throughout the race, and the other people I knew who'd participated. Sadly it wasn't so great to see Yi Shun on the finish line, already kitted out in very telling normal clothes. Despite all her dedicated preparation and the trip across the Atlantic, she had suffered terminal mechanical failures in the bike leg and had to withdraw from the race. I feel for her utter desolation.

And then after a couple of hours eating whatever I could lay my hands on (mainly cake), and watching as the gorgeous sunny weather (with occasional showers) turned to torrential hailstorms, I did the long 4.5 hour drive back to London (not helped by 40 minutes of sat-nav ridiculousness - I'd lent my map to Yi Shun and Emily for their hire car so could do nothing but follow the erroneous instructions). I didn't struggle too much to stay awake but I was ready for some nice savoury food and bedtime when I got back home, leaving the flat strewn with bikes and transition bags to deal with this morning.

I feel utterly chuffed to have finished the race and see it more than anything as the end of a difficult 6 week period following my bike crash. My back isn't 100% but if it can withstand a half marathon - a half Ironman in fact - without getting worse then I think it's time to get back to training. Obviously I'm going to have to let my legs recover first!

The only thing I have to reassess though, is my desire to do a full Ironman. Right now I don't think I can do it next year. It's just too much of a leap. Plus I'm not sure I want to dedicate that much time to training for the run; going from "can barely manage a half" to "comfortably completing a marathon after a 112-mile bike". The middle distance really appeals to me; it's long enough to be a big challenge but short enough to be able to train for whilst also having a life. I really fancy the idea of doing 2 or 3 middle distance tris per year, and getting my time down as far as I can. And maybe in 2010 I'll go long ... who knows.

Training Diary 9-15 June
T: 45 mins open water swim
    30 mins spin
W: 45 mins open water swim
T: 40 mins open water swim
F: 30 mins bike
S: Rest day
S: UK Half Ironman 70.3
501st out of 799 finishers
46th of 107 women (77th on swim, 36th on bike, 62nd on run)
11th of 26 F35-39 (16th on swim, 7th on bike, 15th on run)
Swim: 41:58, Bike: 3:38:18, Run: 2.09.41, Total: 6:40:27

Total: 9h 50m

Grr. 5 minutes cost me £50 today, thanks to a grotty jobsworth traffic warden who was clearly hovering at the car to see if she could trap a prey. Meanwhile I had the picking-up-Miles deadline in my head rather than (stupid me) the ticket-expiry deadline. Fifty pounds! I'm afraid my juvenile irate side also showed itself in the indignant comments I shouted at aforementioned jobsworth as we left. Why on earth would you ticket a car five minutes after expiry of its ticket? Why on earth would that give you satisfaction? Watches can be misligned by 5 minutes easily ... it's just RIDICULOUS.

On the bright side of this week, Yi Shun arrived yesterday and it's very fun to have a companion and training buddy. Not to mention the immediate adoration she generates in both kids who were affectionately shouting "I love you!" at her as we dropped her off at Belgrave Square this afternoon. If only I could garner that sort of devotion.

We've been in the Serpentine (beware the lurking reptilian traffic wardens) 2 times together, which has been a lot of fun. And today I finally got back to the comfortable swimming state I was inhabiting last year, far from the anxious flailer I became in the Ellesmere 2 weeks ago.

I'm still quite looking forward to the race. I'm not sure I'm looking forward to racing so much as a weekend away on an adventure with friends. It should be a good laugh excepting the 7 hours of hell I'll be enduring in the middle of it all. And did I mention that the mass start (of 1500 competitors - in a single wave!) is setting off at six a.m. on Sunday morning. We need to be on the start line with the other 1497 competitors at 5:40, and will therefore need to leave the B&B at around 4:45. Breakfast at 4am. Nice.

On the bright side I should be finished with it all by about 1pm at which point I will collapse in a heap and sleep somewhere, before heading back to London in the evening to relieve Roj from the weekend watch.

Let's just hope the truckers decide against their M4 go-slow.

So Jody was 5 yesterday. It was lower-key than it could have been, with it being a school day and also because that will be compensated for with her birthday party in a couple of weeks. But we still decorated the breakfast room with banners and balloons and wrapped a few presents and got excited about it. And she had a cake to take to school with her and one when she got home from school to a little surprise supper with Daddy. All was very nice until her overtired claims that it was the worst birthday ever and she hated all her presents. Ungrateful little brat! ...

My mum rightly pointed out that she's been acting 5 for white a while now, so it's not like a huge milestone has just been passed. She's the same old Jody she always has been, only a touch more defiant and a touch cleverer. But she's still vigorous and energetic and creative and when you look into those big grey earnest eyes, even in her worst fits of rage and toddler turmoil, all is forgiven. Oh she's going to be so much trouble!

We remembered our evening at Vynl, the night before she was born, and the speedy trip down to the Manhattan birth centre in the early morning humidity. But as each year goes by those memories fade ... eclipsed certainly by the overwhelming presences of young children. This year marks the first that Jody has been at big school and time marches on. In another year I'll finally be looking at the end of my 6+ years as a full time mum (to the extent that both my kids will be at school for most of the week, anyway). Before I know it they'll be doing GCSEs and worrying about dating and money. Inexorable.

Enormous breakthrough this weekend in the long journey towards a nappy-free environment. Miles wanted to wear 'big boy pants' on Saturday morning, and has happily and competently done all his subsequent wees in the toilet, barring two [very] little accidents on his first day. He's even been out and about every day which is normally enough to disrupt efforts, but which he is handling with ease. And he's already got the hang of asking to go, rather than being asked. We are very impressed with his fastidiousness and are abandoning daytime nappies from this point forward. Given that his first ever toilet poo occurred only a week ago, progress has been fast. There's obviously something to be said for waiting til they're old enough to be ready.

Roj did well at the Blenheim Triathlon on Sunday and took an early puncture (overheated tyres in transition) in his stride, as well as the bump he received from another competitor while fixing it. The swim was better than his experience in London so all was well. And who could complain about a day spent in the grounds of beautiful Blenheim Palace in scorching sunshine with the kids on their own bikes, intermittently yelling a support message to Daddy. A good, if slightly lethargic day (which paid off for me in the kit stands at the race!)

I am now rather exitedly awaiting the race at the weekend. I've been very dismissive of it to date, given that I am not going to do as well as I originally aimed. However it was pointed out to me that I'm not being very gracious about what I can achieve, and it subsequently occurred to me that I'm going to achieve nothing whatsoever if I go into it with the negative view that anything below such-and-such a place is not worth doing. Rubbish. It'll be a great laugh to do it with Yi Shun and Emily (team efforts being more fun in general) and I'm going to try and enjoy every moment. After all, I'm in a position to attempt a half ironman 6 weeks after a reasonably serious bike crash. Which is achievement in itself.

I swam in the Serpentine this morning for the first time since last September, and although my shoulders were killing, it was a very lovely experience. There were only two of us in there (it's been heaving in the hot sunshine of the last few days but was cloudy enough this morning to keep people away) and the Canadian geese, and I just really enjoyed pootling up and down (slowly slowly slowly), acclimatising myself to the feeling of being in a lake. I was so comfortable last year after multiple sessions in there that I regret not having been in already, but I think even this week (2 more sessions planned) will improve my comfort levels in the water. It takes a while to get used to being in a wetsuit too (I find it too buoyant and restrictive).

Jody is 5 tomorrow. She's so excited about her birthday. I hope it won't be too much of an anticlimax because we're mostly celebrating it later in the day (a little tea party when Daddy comes home) and on party day in a couple of weeks. I'm already nervous about the party. After much research, my entertainer of choice couldn't manage our chosen time, so I've settled for second best. Already the expense of this party is making my eyes pop, and I've only hired the venue and the entertainer so far. There's a lot to be said for having the party at home and I will aim to do that in subsequent years, once Jody's school friend bonds are stronger (and hopefully more exclusive!)

Training Diary 2-8 June
M: Hilly bike ride 1h 10m

Total: 1h 10m

I went out twice last week! On Wednesday to a small farewell dinner for a local neighbourhood mum moving to the US. And on Friday to Soho to help celebrate Gerard's 40th birthday, which was a rare opportunity to sit drinking beer in a pub with some non-parenty friends. Nevertheless I had to leave at 11pm, well aware that I'd need my sleep before the kids' early rising the following day; funny how they affect you even when they're not around.

We went up to Shropshire later than planned on Saturday, to be there for the triathlon on Sunday. Before leaving I went for a 20 minute run in Hyde Park to establish whether it was actually going to be possible to do the run leg at all. I knew it would hurt and I was right. I got some niggling back pain with each step and knew that I would be pace-limited on Sunday, if I was able to do it at all.

I slept in the car up to Shropshire, compensating for a very sleep-deprived week of late nights and insommniac mornings. We got to Nana's in time for dinner and bedtime and a little wander around their in-progress equestrian centre, looking very impressive with its massive horse therapy equipment. I procrastinated with sorting my bike out for long enough that I didn't get to bed til nearly midnight, so it was lucky I didn't have to leave til 8:15 on Sunday.

I got to the race venue at Ellesmere and methodically sorted through my stuff, getting myself ready for what would be my first triathlon and my first open-water swim of the year. I was already apprehensive, mainly based on my past 5 weeks of non-training, but I tried not to dwell on it too much. It helped that the announcers said that the water was a balmy 17 degrees, warm enough to dispense with the wetsuit by BTF rules.

But my apprehension only grew as time went on, and I failed to make the most of the 2 or 3 minutes of acclimatisation in the water before the starting whistle blew. Consequently I felt acutely the shock of submerging in cold water, and soon realised that my wetsuit was uncomfortably tight around my neck, constricting my ability to clear the viral gunk from my chest. Added to which the swim was a long diamond-shape into the centre of a quite large lake which made me feel quite insecure, and on the outward leg I felt pond weeds tickling my fingers on every downstroke. The combination of factors only served to increase my anxiety and I found myself desperately thinking of good reasons not to abandon. And the main problem was that my nerves prevented me from using an efficient stroke until I rounded the homeward buoy at about 1000m. I was so frustrated to find myself right at the back of the field yet all I could do was try and hang on and take it steady. I wasn't in this race for a pb after all.

I emerged about third from last woman from the water and jogged gently to transition to my bike, with the added stimulus of having Jody, Miles, Roj and Nana cheering me from outside the transition cage ("Are you winning Mummy?" "Ur, no!").

The bike leg was much better, as is usually the case with me. The course was mostly flat and fast with some minor undulations thrown in for interest. I enjoyed the aero position enormously and resolved to purchase a more tri-specific saddle before my next race. I'd have liked to push hard around the bike, but kept it steady instead, averaging just over 19mph for the 40km distance. I wanted to save something for the run which I knew would be the most painful part of the race.

During bike/run transition I popped a couple [more] nurofen and wondered honestly whether I was going to be able to do more than a couple of k. I set off at a leisurely amble, determined to make the best of it. My back hurt from the word go, but never got so bad that I felt I ought to stop, and by the time I'd finished the first of two doglegs out and back, I felt I'd got too far to turn back. It was still pretty demoralising though, to be overtaken by a constant trickle of runners, and to be running back along the outward course, counting how many strong-looking women would be coming past in the next few minutes once they'd rounded the furthest marker. It was all about surpressing my competitive spiprit and recognising that I was in this race as a trial for my injury rather than to set some kind of record.

I was very relieved to pass the 9km mark and round the corner to the finish line. I knew this would be one of my worst results but was still happy to have completed the thing. The worst of it was that it took me 5 days to recover properly though. By yesterday I felt like I was about back to the same state as I was on the previous Friday and I've certainly been in no position to carry on with running training, though I'd have certainly liked to.

On Sunday afternoon I dropped Roj off at the station for his return to London and spent a lovely hour with Milly catching up on the last couple of months. Would have liked to spend more time there, but was time-pressured to get back to Nana's and collect Miles who I didn't have the heart to disturb from his fitful sleep after a rather nasty fall off his like-a-bike on Nana's drive. Then off to my parents' for a few days of relaxation (and hopefully the chance to do some training in the hills).

Only things didn't exactly go to plan because my dad fell ill with a very virulent gastro-enteritis thing which it was clear by Monday he had contracted from his mother in hospital during the week (enough of her ward subsequently caught it that it had to be closed). He spent 36 hours in dire straits, isolated on the upper floor while the kids and my mum and I entertained ourselves downstairs. In a way it was relaxing to be there without too much of an agenda, but I was also frustrated and bored at times, without enough to keep me occupied and with back pain that kept me from more than 1 [painful] hour on the bike.

On Tuesday I decided to sift through some of my junk childhood boxes that've emerged from my parents' loft space since they moved house. And I depressed myself further with the discovery of photos and diaries harking back to early teenage years. I couldn't bear to read the shallow depressive angst "I hate so-and-so;" "I hate life;" "I hate myself," and see the stroppy dark over-made-up eyes staring back at me. I was such an unhappy teenager and looking back I see it all as wasted years. I suppose it was just typical teenage angst but I was saddened not to find just a small justifiable reason for my fierce negativity. Just empty shallow meaningless words depicting a character I now despise.

So now I'm back in London and have finally come to the end of my 2 sequential half terms. I'm looking forward to getting back to the routine next week, and to the imminent arrival of Yi Shun for a week or more of London life, and a weekend in Exmoor for the UK 70.3. I wish I was in better form for it, but I was even today looking wistfully at the Regent's Park outer circle and feeling like it won't be long now before I'm back to some semblance of a training regime. It's been so long. I can't wait.

Out again tonight, to celebrate Sabine's birthday. Mental note not to drink too much or my French will be even more incomprehensible than usual. Already the second night out on the tiles this week too, after a rather enjoyable meal at Gordon Ramsey's The Warrington in Maida Vale with Grandad, Jill and T. Which makes 2 weeks in a row with 2 evenings out. Unprecedented!

Training Diary 26 May - 1 June
M-F: Virus + injury + child holiday = no training
S: 20 min run. Back painful.
S: Shropshire Triathlon (1.5km swim, 40km bike, 10km run)
Swim (1500m): 36:18, bike (40km): 1:16:23, run (10km): 53:25. Total: 2:46:06. 16th out of 23 women. Snore.

Total: 3:06