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
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.
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!'
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!'
