The inspiration behind walking the Thames London Bridges

In December 2017, the Frenchman and I were thrilled and terrified when we discovered there was a mini growing inside me. 9 months of vomiting then ensued and I was desperate to find a sport which would keep me healthy and happy through pregnancy. Swimming didn't work due to acid reflux, road cycling stopped after some near misses with ubers, and my back is still buggered from running, so I turned to walking.

Not one to saunter round the park, I needed a challenge to keep me focused as my belly grew so in my research I read about a 48km London Bridges walk - crossing every pedestrian friendly bridge of London from Hampton Court to Tower Bridge - written by Bex Band 'The Ordinary Adventurer' - and was inspired!

https://www.theordinaryadventurer.com/adventure/thames-london-bridge-challenge/

My friend Charlotte agreed to join me in this challenge, and wrote a blog post about our training and the big walk, so over to you Charlotte...


https://charlottecrowesweb.blogspot.com/2018/04/microadventure-4-london-bridges.html

Sunday, 15 April 2018

Microadventure #4 - London Bridges Challenge

Unlike my night in a bothy (January), cold water swim (February) and weeknight wild camping (March), this month's microadventure required a bit of training.

When my friend Naomi suggested we do a 48km (30 mile) walk along the River Thames, I scoffed at her suggestion of a training plan. It's walking - how hard could it be?! 

Fast forward to our first 20km training walk together (in the snow) and I realised that I'd underestimated the effort of putting one foot in front of the other and repeating it for a 3-4 hour period. The following week I battled with a strange twinge in the muscle on top of one of my feet, sore hip flexors and shin splints. So a training plan it would have to be. Fortunately for me, Naomi is a TV producer and LOVES planning!

Over the next 4 weeks, we both incorporated walking into our work commutes and did a longer walk together at the weekends, increasing the distance by 5km every week. Slowly my legs got used to the different range of motion to running and cycling. And with a bit of stretching and foam roller-ing, 4 weekends on from that snowy 20km we were at Hampton Court train station, ready to begin our walk crossing the 26 pedestrian bridges that span the River Thames from Hampton Court to Tower Bridge. There are actually 33 in total, but 7 are railway bridges, so we didn't think they were a very sensible option to get ourselves to Tower Bridge in one piece.

The twists and turns of the River Thames - including the 'Chiswick cleavage'

Here are all 26 bridges in order:

1.   Hampton Court Bridge

2.   Kingston Bridge

3.   Teddington Lock Footbridge

4.   Richmond Bridge

5.   Twickenham Bridge

6.   Richmond Lock Footbridge

7.   Kew Bridge

8.   Chiswick Bridge

9.   Barnes Bridge

10. Hammersmith Bridge

11. Putney Bridge

12. Fulham Bridge

13. Wandsworth Bridge

14. Battersea Bridge

15. Albert Bridge

16. Chelsea Bridge

17. Vauxhall Bridge

18. Lambeth Bridge

19. Westminster Bridge

20. Hungerford/Golden Jubilee Bridge

21. Waterloo Brdige

22. Blackfriars Bridge

23. Millenium Bridge

24. Southwark Bridge

25. London Bridge

26. Tower Bridge

I should probably add, just to add to the adventure, Naomi is 5 months pregnant. WHAT A TROOPER! So to balance us out and to make things fairer, I carried her backpack on my front most of the way. A sort of externally positioned foetus full of sandwiches, soup, water and snacks.

7am and we're off!

Being a doofus in Bushy Park

Bacon sarnies in baguettes homemade by Nico (Naomi's husband)

Charlotte standard 'Ta daaa' pose in front of Richmond Lock Bridge

Standard dog stop (me, not Naomi)

Stretching on Kew Bridge

Saying hello to the geese (with an irrational fear of geese and swans)

Running out of bridge poses

By the time we got towards lunchtime, my "let's cross that bridge when we come to it" jokes were wearing thin and hunger was setting in. So THANK GOODNESS for bumping into fellow Clapham Chaser Gabby near Barnes and Carluccios in Putney.

Bumping into Gabby along the river

Pasta in Putney

The afternoon was mostly about playing games like "What's your favourite..." (covering just about every possible topic) and "Would you rather X or Y" (to which Naomi would normally say one, change her mind then say both). Part of the fun of walking rather than running or cycling is you really can have a proper conversation. But even good friends run out of regular chat so the games were a fun way to get to know each other even better.

Outside Carluccios in front of Putney Bridge

Fulham Rail/Pedestrian Bridge

In Battersea Park we were met by Nico and did a bit of leg elevation by Albert Bridge before heading more central where, after being quite sparse for the most of the way, the bridges came thick and fast.

Leg elevating in Battersea Park

The baguette chef himself!

'Pretending to hitch-hike' pose on Chelsea Bridge

Chelsea Bridge

Lambeth Bridge BUMP

Westminster Bridge

Hungerford/Golden Jubilee Bridge

Millenium Bridge Selfie (St Pauls Cathedral in background)

Special treeeeeat rest before London Bridge

We arrived at Tower Bridge at about 7:30pm, abour 12 hours after we started. And then walked all the way home.

Kidding. 

We got an Uber.

Obvs.

Why I swam the channel with my mates

Summer 2014 - I've struggled through 6 months of injury and managed to race (albeit slightly broken) at the European triathlon championships in Kitzbuhl. After 5 years competing as an age-group triathlete and months of tests and scans the results are in:
* Hip guy - "if you continue time trials you will most likely need a hip replacement and/ or develop hip arthritis."
* Spine guy - "if you continue running, you will most likely have chronic back pain for the rest of your life and problems with childbirth".

Cue teary phone call to Nico outside the Lister hospital and a mad panic about what I will do without triathlon in my life, something which fills my every day of the week, my social life, my time with Nico... Nico as always, calm and reassuring, "don't worry, you can find something else to be competitive at". Right, so running and cycling is off the menu for the moment while I start a long road to physio recovery and/ or contemplate surgery for one or both. Not content with any 'leisure activities' or spending my weekends shopping/ hungover/ at brunch (is that what non-sporty people do at weekends?!) I knew I needed to find a challenge to quench my competitive appetite.

So swimming is my remaining doable sport for the moment. Lucky as it is actually my fave triathlon discipline and I am most happy in h20, Nico often tells me 'tu est comme un poisson'. I know I need to find something to fill the triathlon void in my life next season so now to find a good swimming challenge. And what is one of the most challenging swims? The English channel of course! For some reason I have always wanted to swim the channel - I once saw a film about an old woman who had swum it as a young lady and I thought, wow she is brave and gutsy - I'll do that one day!

As I started looking into a solo attempt - 22 miles, average of 15hrs if you're good/ conditions are kind, wetsuit not allowed, high rates of unsuccessful crossings... OK so that's quite a change from my 1.5k Olympic distance triathlon swims in calm lakes and rivers. Someone suggested a relay was a good starting point for anyone hungry for the channel challenge to get a taste of what is to come so that was that - channel challenge stage 1 - make a group of friends do it with me...

As a member of a brilliant, brave and hardcore triathlon club "Clapham chasers" I knew that I would be able to recruit a team of keen/ mad swimmers. So, some direct emails, gentle bullying and a shout out to my closest and bravest age-group Tri mates and quite quickly I had a team of 5 from the club, and then of course my big bro who loves competing/ beating me at anything wanted a piece of the action too - so we had a team of 6: Bossy Naomi - Team Captain. Hardcore Anna. Frenchie Sophie. Polish fish Kris. Aussie Tim (with his crack out). Big bro Jase. Aka the "+1".

Next up was to book our pilot, boat and swimming slot. For a novice, I had to quickly get my head around the 2 associations who accompany channel swimmers, the high cost, the best tides, the queuing system and how you actually train for it. After many conversations with salty sea dogs, we booked Andy on Louise Jane as a friend of mine had used him for a solo attempt and he had a good slot in August 2015 which was the only month the whole team had no race/ wedding/ work commitments in.

Training started in November 2014 - we met on a Sunday (after everyone's weekend long runs and rides) at Crystal Palace where I made up some long endurance sets of around 5k, much longer that us triathletes are used to. The comradely and company for all those lengths, little races, waving underwater and encouragement when the arms were limp and useless was a great start to our team bonding!

Our first official team meeting was in a pub (of course) and I did an agenda (of course) to go through all the detail of our challenge ahead. I talked very seriously about the rules: the swim order, how you changeover, not touching the boat, the tides, estimated time and what you have to wear: swimsuit, hat and goggles. Big bro Gayler chips in "and wetsuit yeah", "No Jason, no wetsuit, it's against the rules", "what?!?!", cue much laughter. Perhaps I forgot to mention it when I was convincing him to sign up :)

Throughout the winter everyone started cold water dips - during any work trip, hen doo weekend or holiday - we bullied each other to jump into the sea to start our cold water acclimatisation and sent around shrieking videos. In March I started my cold water 'swims'  which involved brief and very painful 10-15 min doggy paddles in around 8 degrees at Tooting Lido. Nico would come down with me and go for the run and return to check I wasn't hypothermic. The lifeguards are also trained and very reassuring for newbies which I was grateful for. One day I had gone alone and came out feeling "very weird" - I wasn't shivering, felt light headed and felt like I was walking on air. Cue panicked messages to some experienced channel folk I had befriended - Mike and Matthew - "I think I have hypothermia stage 2, what shall I do?!" They laughed and said if I was texting I was probably OK. A hot chocolate and my trusty Rab jacket and I was fine after 30 mins.

I spent Easter weekend at the very brilliant Eton camp, run by channel extraordinaries Nick Adams and his lovely wife Sakura. It was an amazing weekend - firstly for the people who attended, all of whom have already done and are planning extraordinary swimming challenges, which made my channel relay seem a bit weedy. The collective knowledge and experience in the room was amazing and something you would never get from a book. Secondly for the most amazing training, I  was up to swimming 5k (albeit not in one go) but that weekend would see me swimming 5k one morning, 6k that afternoon and then a 10k the next day. In a 25m pool. I was terrified. The night before the 10k I text Nico and it hurt my arms to type... Oh god. I decided that I had to put peer pressure on myself by telling all my triathlon mates about the challenge ahead - if people are expecting you to do it, you have to bloody do it.

The next day, with a brilliant lane mates in Mike and Deidre and a trusty abacus, we did it. 100m at a time. I broke it down to 1k's and had huge celebrations at 2.5k, 5k, 7k and for each k remaining when my arms resembled floppy spaghetti. The last k was not pretty but having done the majority I knew I could, mind over matter, I knew my friends Anna and Kristy were thinking of me during those 3hrs and that massively kept me going. It was my greatest swim achievement so far and gave me great confidence that I can happily swim for 3hrs and didn't get bored. Think I'm liking this long distance swimming!

At the end of April all the lakes opened so we took our team outings outside. The lake was 9/10 degrees and we all knew how hard it was swimming in this temp IN A WETSUIT from previous seasons. The aim was to do 2 short swims and warm up in between. With all my new knowledge from the Eton camp I became strict mum bossing the team around - prepare your clothes in the order you will dress, wet your neck, get in slowly, breaststroke then front crawl, deep breaths, stay close together, get wet clothes off quickly, hat on first, no faffing, get dressed quickly, hot drink huddle like penguins!

In May we did our first trip to Dover where we met the scary but brilliant Freda and a lot of channel nutters who are doing solos. I was in awe. We continued our 2 x swims, with Freda always telling us to do more than we planned. Dover is either wonderful and sunny, or grey and depressing. Either way, it's is great preparation for the channel and definitely worth the long drive/ painful pebble walk/ character building harbour laps.

The team had booked a number of long swim races as practise at the beginning of the summer but unfortunately following a shoulder injury (I have no working limbs left!!!) and a promotion and work move for a filming shoot in Devon, I missed all of them! I was working all hours and had an injured shoulder so couldn't swim - I was feeling low and wondering if I would even be able to do the channel swim. But after a swimmer friend of mine recommended a great Physio Tamara, after a month of boring exercises, I was back in water and embraced my new training ground in Cornwell at Cawsand Bay where I met another load of channel nutters, Pauline and Kate, who were training for solos and again I felt my relay was a bit weedy! That's the great thing about the long distance swimming community, you can always find another friendly nutter who is training for a solo and is immensely encouraging, whatever you are doing. 


My filming schedule meant I only managed 1 long sea swim a week but in July managed my 2hr qualifying swim overseen by Nico who had popped down to make sure I survived ok. August came around quickly, my shoot had ended and I was a broken woman after 6 weeks of 20hr filming days and barely any time off, let along much training but I had faith in my 10 months of base training, my competitive nature and the fact that as team captain, basically I can't be a pussy.

It was the first week of August and channel window opened and all eyes were on 5 different wind/ weather forecast apps I was quickly becoming obsessed with. We knew quite quickly that we would most likely swim on time which luckily coincided with a weekend as I was worried about getting time off from work. We finally got 'the call' at 7pm on Saturday night. We would swim to France the next day (hopefully) and needed to be at Dover marina at 4am, quick go to sleep! Obviously I can't sleep.

1.30am my alarm goes off, I cycle to Battersea high st to pick up a zipcar and on to Annas house, knackered but super excited. Nervous chatter, a beautiful sunrise and finding a convoy with Kris en route to Dover. Our brilliant support team were also there - dad Gayler and Soph's brilliant mate Sailor Jerry (who is actually called Tom but I decided Sailor Jerry had a good ring to it). After a bossy briefing in the car park and popping some sea sickness pills, we loaded up Andy's boat and off to motored out or Dover marina, this was it.

The sun was just coming up, casting orange, pink and purple colours across the very still water, we realised how lucky we were to have such amazing conditions to start the swim. It was a magnificent morning. 3 other boats were nearby starting their swims, their small lights twinkling and a swimmer splashing along side them as they too started their journeys to France.







As team captain and chief organiser, I was the lucky first one to start the swim - sun cream, chasers swim hat, lube for having and plenty of nervous energy, I jumped into the chilly morning water and sprinted the beach, this was it. I cleared the water and waited for the klaxon,  a sound I had heard many times at triathlon races and this was rather different. 

I ran in and the water was surprisingly comfortable 14 degrees. Having swum in much colder all season, I felt happy we were prepared for this, and would put aside my fatigue and bloody go for it - this is it, we are swimming to France. My first hour was magnificent - the sun coming up, the water like a mill pond, my friends and family smiling and shouting down at me. This is something I will never forget!


The following hours passed in a haze of jumping in, climbing up the ladder out, drying off, warming up, whistles and changeovers, sunshine, sleeping bags, beanies, homemade lasagne from Andys oven, jelly babies, naps, cups of tea, funny/ rude/ encouraging white board messages and plenty of nattering and laughter, with such amazing conditions it was rather lovely day out. 

 

 

Passing huge ferries and takers which such a surreal experience. We came so close to a 100ft tanker that Kris had to literally stop and swim breaststroke.

The first 6 hours were great - still waters, sunshine and good conditions. As we moved into the shipping lane, there was more seaweed, what we thought was a seal (actually a black plastic bucket) and then - the jellies. Poor Kris got a jelly in the face but bravely carried on without making any fuss until he got out and we noticed a huge patch of red pain all over his face. I then got 'the fear' and skipper Andy gave me a tough talking to telling me he would steer around any big shoals. I didn't think he actually would but it made me feel better. 

I got in for my second swim and saw jellies everywhere so decided to swim as aggressively as I possibly could - don't mess with me you jelly fuckers! Luckily they didn't. As everyone second swims started and we got nearer France, the conditions became more choppy and harder work - the boys did great legs. Particularly Tim who got us very close to France indeed. Andy then made a tough call as to whether to get Tim to do final swim beyond his allotted hour or have me get in for a 3rd shorter swim and decided the latter. I felt incredibly lucky (and guilty) that I was able to start and end the swim.

We were only about 1km from Wissant bay. I could see people walking their dogs along the beach and a small crowd gathered as I swum further into the beach and I realised how surreal and amazing this experience was - my mates, brother and I have swum to France with our legs and arms. That is pretty cool. The water became shallow and I could see the sand, soon my fingertips were touching sand and I felt rather emotional! Imagine how this would feel on a solo swim... A crowd of 20 welcomed me on the beach, some English tourists and a local Frenchman who asked me where I was from, how long it took us etc, it was utterly bizarre. Excited to head back to the boat and celebrate with the team I stuffed 8 sandy seaweedy pebbles down my cossie and ventured back in to swim back to the boat waiting in deeper water.

Cue lots of cheers, a pop of the champagne cork - we had done it in a very respectable 12hrs and 10 mins. It was a rocky journey back as Andy attacked the bigger waves to get us to the pub as soon as possible. Nico and Kris' girlfriend Erin had cycled down to Dover from London to meet us when we arrived back in the marina which was amazing and we all went to the white horse pub for celebratory beers and of course to the wrote our team name/ date and time of our crossing on the wall alongside many other inspirational channel swimmers.

1yr of planning, 10 months of training and it was all over. I am so pleased to have had such an amazing, encouraging, brave and strong team, everyone giving it 100% on the day to get us there in good time. It was an amazing day and one I will never forget! Am also incredibly grateful to Dad Gayler and Sailor Jerry (Tom) for being our amazing support team - accompanying us on training swims as well as the big day, giving us warm clothes, hot drinks and food, you are both brilliant. Also thanks to our pilot Andy and his son for getting us a cross safely. 

Finally to everyone in the channel community of London, Cornwall and Dover who have given the team and I so much useful advice and brilliant encouragement and 'normalising' something a lot of people think is ridiculous.

Nicos French friends and family obviously think we are nuts:
"Why would you swim to France?"
"Because you can" 
:)

Of course the next questions is "when are you doing a solo", and the answer is of course "yes, I will". That moment when my fingertips scraped French sand at Wissant gave me enough motivation to attempt to get there with my own stumpy arms tout sol one day, so watch this space...

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