The people behind the scenes

6 days to go until I take a few deep breaths and plunge into the Serpentine, Hyde Park, to compete in the Age-group World Championships. And this is who has got me here:

My Dad - who made every holiday sporty and forced me to jump off very high cliffs, which taught me not to be a wimp.

My Mum - who marched us around on 5hr cliff path walks, giving me a great aerobic base very early on in my life.

My Sis - who whilst very busy raising small children always remembers my races.

My bro - who likes to beat me and show me he is still the big brother in charge.

Emily, Tom and Jes - for always checking how training is going, and other colleagues who weren't offended by my Lycra or TT bike occasionally in the office.

Ray, my very calm and very patient swim coach and sponsor - who's logo I will proudly be wearing on Sunday. Rays patience and tenacity has brought my swim time from 28 to 23 minutes over the last couple of years and he is a great coach in tackling the mental blocks you get when trying to re-learn what you think you already know

Laid back Physio James - who fixed my bumjury last season and whiplash this year, as well as offering much wisdom and advice, and a royal kick up the backside when I was flagging

Addiscombe cycling club - for helping to develop my thighs of steel in the Surrey and Kent hills and introducing me to the delights of spending Sunday mornings on a dual carriageway in an aero helmet

Clapham chasers - a brilliant club of supportive, talented training buddies. Mark who helped me get a 5k PB, Kris who swam beside me at the lakes, fast, Rich an Rhi who got me through the early season, and Adam, Kristy, Carla and Jenny through the rest! The vomit- inducing track sessions and lovely sunrise lake swims and sweaty brick sessions, made so much more fun when you are trying to keep up with friends.

Fellow club-mate and ace GB age-grouper  Carla and
me doing our last race before the big one!

My age-group competitors - the Met Office (Police), Shetland islands and Laura who remind you never to take it easy during races, just to keep pushing on HARD until the finish line.

(And most importantly) The Frenchman - for being my brilliant training buddy from the freezing dark mornings in Dec to the weekend trips to qualifiers in June, and a coach, data wrangler, mechanic, masseur, cable tie engineer, voice on my shoulder, and 6am barista since then. An all round amazing support, putting up with training spreadsheets, dinners at 10pm, moans and groans, aches and pains, and a girlfriend who lives in sexy lycra tous les temps!

I plan to do you all proud!

I got a 'Q', but what about the Tooting Championships?

2013 has shaped up quite well so far, despite turning 30 which was a shock to the system for 2 reasons; it meant I was a grown up AND it meant I have moved into a new age-group for racing: 30-34. Ladies in this age group generally have more experience, a greater competitive spirit and as my friend Rhi pointed out - more money (for nice kit, coaches, gym memberships, carbon etc)

With my bumjury much improved, training started early in Dec 2012. My French other half and I spent Christmas on long aerobic rides and runs in the Auvergne hills, keeping well hydrated on wine and recovery meals of fois gras and cheese.

By spring, base fitness was good and I started racing. My aim for the season was to run faster and without injury, and to qualify for the world champs which were based at home - Hyde Park, a hell of a lot more convenient than NZ last year! I started doing club track sessions which basically trains you to run fast, in pain, whilst being on the verge of vomitting. I immediately saw the benefits on a timed 5k as I tried to keep up with a club mate knocking 1:10 off the PB from 21:30 to 20:20.

Some aquathons, burning legs TT's and braving the 10 degree lakes after the never-ending cold temperatures, got me well prepped once racing season was under way and I felt super confident about my second year going for age-group qualification.

First race: Deva. Friends of mine had done it the previous year and benefited from a very fast current- assisted swim and comfortable qualification so I was full of confidence. Unfortunately 50 other woman in my age-group thought the same. The swim was mostly upstream and I was so far from the lead group disappearing into the blinding sunlight and I came out way down. Bike leg went OK but I figured all my competition was way ahead and I mainly overtook the slow men from the previous wave. Once on the run I made up a couple of positions but still felt far off. Coming in at 2:34, not great considering my improved fitness and a disappointing 19th in age-group. Roll down doesn't roll down THAT much...

Trying to ignore my dented confidence, I looked ahead to Dambuster, where I had qualified the previous year so knew the course. I had almost given up on world champ qualification and seeing my low esteem, my brilliant Kiwi Physio James noticed and gave me a royal kick up the ass: 'C'mon Naomi for the Dambuster! Go hard mate and dominate!!! I look forward to a monster effort from you all the way.' It worked.

Rutland water is VERY windy, so the swim (after a dramatic beach start) was choppy and made me feel a bit sea sick. I powered on in my usual no-woman's land position behind the lead group and before the main bunch. There was some confusion at one of the turning buoys and I saw the lead group coming back - wow, I'm slow I thought! Onto the bike and battling cross winds the whole way round (where was the nice tailwind treat?) I made up a few places on the little hills and then to the run. This is where I needed to dominate, with Physio James' words ringing in my ears, it's only 10k of pain I thought to myself. Thinking about the vomit-inducing track sessions I had become accustomed to, I settled into it. I got a massive buzz seeing my male mates and boyf in the earlier wave coming in from the dam who told me 'you're quite high up in the field, go for it', (although I didn't know if they were just saying that to encourage me). More cross winds and with the sun raging down, a club mate (and very good age-grouper) Fiona overtook me half way in and I thought if I can keep within a couple of minutes of her, I might scrape into the top 4...

I came in at 2:24, a massive PB by 7 mins but knowing the quality of the field, was unsure if it was enough. There was a commotion around the results machine and word got round that the lead group of women turned at the wrong buoy and were all DQ'd. Print out showed 5th so I was very happy to be next in line for roll down. It was only when we were sat on the motorway coming home I went into the BTF website and saw it was top 5 who got through, so I had automatically qualified, bloody brilliant! So, I am going to London for the finals alongside club mate Fiona (who always overtakes me on the run) and TT mate Laura (who always overtakes me on the bike). Very excited.

With that sorted, I could focus on another equally important objective of the season: The Tooting "World" Championships (well, nearly). The most local race at just 0.5 miles from my house, it's a series of 4 aquathons and the best ranked person gets a mug, that's right, you heard it right, a mug. Amazing.

My objective was to have maximum attendance and podium for each. The first 2 races went well, helped by some cold and wet weather which scared off the fair weather athletes, I bagged gold and then silver. By the 3rd race, the sun had come out welcoming more competitors and I slipped down to bronze, dammit. The friendly race director pointed out it was funny I was moving down every week...

The last race came after a week celebrating turning 30 in Ibiza which involved lazing around, drinking and dancing till the sun came up (cardio?) so it's fair to say I felt slightly unprepared. I decided it was going to hurt but I just had to get on with it. This is the Tooting Championships and and there is a mug at stake. My swim was a bit sloppy so I had to go for it on the run and I did, overtaking a few and moving up the ranks to silver. And the result is below!

So now just another 8 weeks of 5.30am alarms, tired muscles and carb loading until Hyde Park. If I'm ever feeling sluggish I remind myself that friends and family will be waiting by the side of the Serpentine and I don't want to disappoint them. For me, qualifiers are all about getting near the top, and the World Championships are all about avoiding the bottom, so here we go...

A healthy meal which is also a treat?

Many of my super-fit sporty friends live on a strict diet of protein-y pulses, iron-rich spinach, porridge and very lean meat, avoiding alcohol at all costs, counting calories, weighing their protein and generally being quite strict. One of the reasons I love training my ass off all week is to enjoy food, healthy portions and some treats which you feel are well deserved. Salad is not a meal. Carbohydrates are the order of the day.

Here is my alternatives to a healthy meal which also feels like a treat:

Healthy Fish and sweet potato chips with a red pepper sauce and minted peas
- Serves 2
Ingredients:
Olive oil
1 x garlic clove, finely chopped
1 x red onion finely chopped
2 x red peppers, de-seeded and chopped
1 x can tomatoes
1 x small bunch of basil, thinly sliced
Salt and pepper
2 x fish fillets; cod, hake, bream or anything you fancy
1 x egg
Flour
1 x lemon
1 x small bunch of parsley, chopped finely
2 x handfuls of white breadcrumbs
2 x sweet potatoes, sliced into thin wedges
Cayenne pepper (optional)
Frozen peas
Fresh mint, finely chopped

Method:
- Pre heat the oven to 180C
- Add the sweet potato wedges to an oven tray, drizzle with olive oil, season with salt and pepper and a couple of pinches of cayenne pepper (optional)
- Heat some olive oil in a saucepan, add the garlic and chopped red onion until softened but not browned, then add the red peppers until soft, then the can of chopped tomatoes, and simmer.
- Prepare 3 bowls; 1 with flour, 1 with the egg mixed, and one with the breadcrumbs mixed with the zest of 1 lemon (reserve the lemon for later), salt and pepper and the finely chopped parsley
- Take each fish fillet and coat in flour, then egg then breadcrumb mixture
- Place onto a greaseproof oven tray and bake in the pre-heated oven for 10-15 minutes, depending on thickness of the fillet. To check, inset a knife into the middle.
- Boil your frozen peas for 5 minutes, drain and season with salt and pepper and add the chopped mint.
- Mix the fresh sliced basil into the tomato sauce (only at the end otherwise it loses it’s bright green colour)
- Serve the fish with the tomato sauce on the side, accompanied by the sweet potato wedges and minty peas.
- Fish by squeezing the zested lemon juice over the top of the fish and garnishing with a fresh basil leaf.


Healthy Lemon Cheesecake with summer fruits
Serves 2
Ingredients:
8 tbsp of natural yoghurt
1 lemon, zest and juice
Summer fruits; raspberries, blueberries and/ or sliced strawberries
Honey
Chocolate, grated

Method:
- Take 2 glasses/ ramekins
- Mix the yoghurt and lemon zest and juice
- Add 2 tablespoons of museli to the bottom
- Place the yoghurt mixed with lemon zest and juice on top
- Followed by the washed and sliced summer fruits
- Finish with a drizzle of honey and/ or grated chocolate

The commuting pecking order

As well as being a triathlete by night (and early morning), I am also a commuter by bike.

6 years ago I stumbled into my local bike shop without a clue about the difference between aluminium and carbon, and chose a bike which was more comfortable and upright than the speedier more aggressive road bike which was 'a bit much'. Just £250 and with some lovely bouncy suspension, I started life as a commuter in London. Jump forward 4 years and I progressed on to my first road bike which also doubled up as my competition bike for the first couple of years doing triathlons. My trusty Felt ZW5 'Felicity' is still going strong despite a slight rusty chain and crunchy sounding head tube, it gets me from A to B in the somewhat challenging conditions of being a commuter in the capital, helped by a wardrobe of high vis, lycra which leaves nothing to the imagination and some nerves of steel. I remember I once met my Mum for lunch near Regent Street and she said she watched me wobbling off between big red buses and careering taxis and was terrified. My sister warns me on a regular basis how dangerous it is, though she lives in Guernsey where the speed limit is 20mph, so it's not very comparable.

It has come to my attention that there is a pecking order for London's commuters and (forgive my competitive spirit) an underlying competitive element between road users. I have been trying to determine this order for the last 6 years, so here it is;

10. Pashley's and wooden baskets with dogs in: The ladies (sorry that sounds a bit sexist but I'm a woman so I think that's OK?) riding these pretty steeds are in no rush. Skirts, hats and lovely fitted jackets, often seen on the streets of Chelsea with little road awareness and even less speed. Most commuters will pass them by in a bluuurrrrrrrrr.

9.  Tricycle-riders: Not high on the general percentage but I have spotted 2 in the last year. Surprisingly swift, they coast along the pavements and manage to stay aloft at traffic lights a lot more easily than I can on my road bike pedals. A novel way to get into work on one wheel, bravo. Not just for the circus.

8. Parents with trailers/ carts and carry cots attached: Hats off to the parents who combine the school run with their commute. A little person sporting a large helmet bobbing along in the back seat, a trailer with a brightly coloured flag protruding upwards taking the corners short, or even a tandem where the little one behind is enjoying the views rather than putting in any effort. Special mention to a fellow Strava user of mine, Maryka, who clocks some super speedy times during her weekly training sessions in Richmond Park with her little one in a trailer behind, which I must admit is a lot faster than my average times sans child!

7. The Brompton: A statement of convenience and style (some think) Brompton-riders have a very high cadence, Brompton riders smugley fold their bikes up and enjoy the combination of train and cycling commute. A reasonable weight to lug on to tubes, no one can argue with the clever design. However, to be overtaken by this 'folding bike' is nothing short of embarrassing, particularly for competitive commuters like myself. 

6. Mountain bikes: The streets of London is not ideal terrain for front and back suspension (although, pot holes...) but many choose this steed to get to the office. Baggy shorts, mountain bike clip-ins and a dislike for roadies, these guys put in a lot of effort and I believe burn more calories on an average commute as most of their pedalling effort is absorbed in to the suspension.

5. Hybrids: These guys have a slight advantage over mountain bikers, and are half way to being faster. Half roadie, half mountain bike, it's a popular and cost-effective solution. Bike snobs may sniff at hybrids being speedy but I had a good few years on my Schwinn which left (unfit) roadies to (sometimes) eat my dust.

4. Triathletes: Their identify is clear from the tribars, 'bento boxes' attached to their top tubes, slurping down energy gels (for a commute, yes I have seen this before). I like to think they have just come from a hard morning ride before work, but it does seem they are just commuting (and sometimes with their 'nice race wheels', hmm). Wildly competitive and likely to make unexpected moves, they are not considered the best road users but are speedy for the most of it, and likely to be attempting time trials accross parks and along the Victoria Embankment.

3. Fixies: Without wanting to generalise too much, I believe that these mostly originate from east London where gears are considered unfashionable and quiffs, plimsols and buttoned up to the collar shirts are definitely in. What they lack in gears they make up for in style and surprising speed. Fixies will always try to beat roadies off traffic lights and move through the streets of London with speed and swiftness, despite not wearing a helmet (as it ruins the quiff).

2. Roadies: Well seasoned bike snobs, roadies believe they are the kings (or queens) of the road. From classic steel frames to the highest spec and newest carbon model (I hope these guys have secure bike parking at their office), roadies will never want to be overtaken, especially by numbers 10-3, and will always make a sprint from the lights. They cockily ride through reds, overtake in the cycle lanes and sprint up hills to 'get into zone 4'. They believe they are the cream of the crop but I disagree...

1. Courriers: And at number 1, an unexpected candiate - the bicycle courrier. Whilst working in Soho this year, I came to know a little bit more about this specimen. These guys ('tis true I have seen very few/ if any female courriers, please correct me if I'm wrong) literally live and breath the streets of London. Their trusty steeds are indeed not shiny but boy are they fast. They know every back street, short cut in town and always blend into the streets and pavements as their clothes and faces are specked with London's finest road dirt. I will always be overtaken by courriers with ease, and believe they really do rule the roads.

Warning to fellow commuters: there is always a white van/ red bus/ minicab/ scary lorry out where ready to make an unexpected turn, countless passengers flinging open their doors and pedestrians updating their Facebook status as they cross the road (without looking). Have fun out there and be safe!

Single, taken or training?

A tri-tweeter of mine recently posted this pic and I'm sure I'm not the only one who sniggered in agreement. The tweeter in question is a fellow GB age-grouper, George * who is training 15-20 hours a week whilst working full-time and having no shred of a social life. Sound familiar?

George* recently went on a date, it went brilliantly but ended too quickly. 'I have to get up early', George* said. The girl rolled her eyes disappointed, George* was using that age-old excuse and was not interested. But no, he really DOES need to get home, check training plan, write out session plan on small scrap of paper, add todays feedback to training plan, put a lycra wash on, lay out lycra for the next day as well as sports drink and bars and other gubbins,  set the alarm for 5am, eat porridge, then cycle 40k before a shower, change, second breakfast, pack 2 lunches, shove ironed work clothes into backpack along with the evenings swim stuff, commute and be ready for a 10 hour day at work starting at 9am. Its a genuine reason! But for anyone not obsessed with this sport, this reason doesn't wash.

Speaking to fellow Tri friends of mine, it is obvious that following a training plan and keeping your other half happy is sometimes challenging. Military organisation and planning, compromising social plans like a treaty and inevitably getting training done early doors and 'out the way' in order to have quality time. It is very easy for training to fill a whole weekend, especially when you love it, but spending all day in Lycra and sweating is not everyone's idea of a brilliant Saturday.

I am one of the lucky ones to have managed to bag a sporty one. The Frenchman in question was sourced on the internet and when I saw a profile picture of him on a nice Bianchi, I saw strong potential (amongst many other reasons!). Road racer turned triathlete (potentially something to do with me?) we train together 5-6 days a week; I coach his swimming, he coaches my cycling and chatter keeps us going on those long aerobic runs which we both find a bit boring. I am very thankful I have someone to share my 6am porridge with, a wheel to ride on when I need a little break and most importantly for shared enthusiasm, support, fun (and sports washes).

My advice to George* the age grouper and anyone else who's sport takes over their life and threatens new relationships is to seek a partner who partakes in or at least gets your sporty commitment. It's no surprise that there is a high rate of blossoming relationships and even marriages within members of my Tri club, so pay that £20 joining fee and get along to pace a sporty fitty/ ride on their wheel/ share a post-race beer with.

 * not real name

Calamity Jane

A phone call from my Dad following my latest accident: 'Watcha calamity, how is your whiplash? You know that we gave you your middle name Jane after Calamity Jane, don't you?' For some reason, I manage to get an annual injury which unfortunately coincides with the start of each triathlon season. Is this the result of being a keen sportswoman or am I just 'tres maladroite?'

2011 - Torn ankle ligaments 

Following a promotion at work, I was keen to get home to celebrate with a friend. Rushing down stairs wearing cleats, bike on one shoulder, backpack on the other combined with metal edged stairs and no free hands to hold the stair rail resulted in a nasty fall down a whole flight of stairs. Never one to dwell, I picked myself up, cycled 20k home and headed straight to the pub for a glass (or two) of champers. Over the course of the evening, each trip to the bar or toilet got more difficult and by the end of the night, my ankle had swollen to an alarming size. I planned to 'sleep it off' but was awoken at 4am by ankle agony. Unable to walk, I desperately texted my local friends to beg them to come and take me to the hospital for X-rays, drugs and warnings to rest for 'as long as possible' for my first Olympic-distance season. Not ideal.
Result: 4 weeks on crutches, 3 months off running and many bags of frozen peas

2012 - Grade 2 wrist sprain 

During a 6-week filming stint at a hospital (ironic?) on a rare day off, I headed out for a mid-week cycle with some club friends. 30 minutes into the ride we were heading fast down a dark back road. Suddenly my back wheel skidded and I briefly touched wheels with one of the guys (who was just back cycling after a long injury and was also taking his 'nice bike' out for a spin). We managed to recover from it then a second later I hit a patch of grease on the road. The wheels came from under me, and I fell hard on my right side. Carbon and aluminium crashed down, I landed SPLAT on my front and slid 10 metres down the road, ripping and coating my brand-new Gore jersey in a nice layer of oil. A bent derailleur and a bit shaken, we headed to the nearest caff but the cyclists favourite of tea and tea cake didn't help things. Following a tearful phone call to the boyfriend, a train back to London and 4 hours in A and E, I had a grade 2 wrist sprain. No cycling and swimming for 2 months and one-handed work for me.
Result: 3 weeks in a sling, a skiing holiday with a splint and lots of co-codomel.

2013 - Whiplash

This one for once was not sport-related. After a long days filming I was in a cab back to the office. Watching London at night along the lovely Victoria Embankment, we suddenly had a massive hit from behind as the driver was clearly admiring the view as well. My left side outside the seatbelt lurched forward and my head smashed on the back of the seat, owch. I felt OK at first but after a couple of days started feeling incredibly sore. Off to a local clinic, a nurse flippantly told me I had whiplash and advised I 'Abstain from all sport for one to two months'. 'One to two months? What!? Don't you realise I have just started my base training?'. She looked blankly back at me. I explained this wasn't possible and needed to train; she suggested I could go on a sit down bike with a magazine and just take it easy. I was displeased with this idea. Luckily my doctor was a lot more positive explaining that my muscles are conditioned from a lot of sport and should bounce back sooner, but it still meant taking it easy for at least a month, a massive set back so early on in the season, damn it!
Result: Numerous painful massages, a potential claim and a little pot of diazepam.

Unlucky in sport, lucky in life? I bloody hope so! I'm off skiing this week with warnings from my Kiwi physio to 'Try and avoid getting yet another injury please Naomi!'