At the end of 2019, I changed coach to Julie Dibens (Dibs), perfect timing (sarcastic voice) as then Covid hit, and all the shit show that followed, with lock downs and restrictions. With races postponed and moved, I ended up heading to Challenge Roth, rescheduled from its usual place at the beginning of July to 5th September 2021. I flew in to Roth, direct from Tokyo, where I’d been a reserve guide for the two Visually Impaired British Paratriathletes. Whilst I wasn’t needed to race, it was still an incredible experience, although made more strange with all the covid restrictions. As a “reserve” I didn’t have full accreditation, and although none of us were allowed to leave the hotel, the non accredited of us, had even less ‘freedom’. When we did leave, we travelled in the hotel service lift and out the back doors. But that’s a whole other story.

But I’d been in Japan for 2-3weeks, trying to manage my last few training sessions for Roth, a full distance triathlon, whilst also ensuring I was primarily available and ready to train with the paratriathletes, and race if needed. That was what I was there to do, my race was very much secondary. I remember doing a long run, on a treadmill (because we weren’t allowed to go anywhere), in the Tokyo heat and humidity. The treadmill was outside, and in the shade, but it was still stinking hot. I would start slipping and sliding, as the treadmill was becoming drench with the sweat pouring off me. I’d have to move laterally across the treadmill to find a dry patch to run on, so I didn’t slip off. But I digress… again.

So to cut this bit short. I arrived in Roth, a lot later than I normally do, and with a very different build. On the day, I had one of my best races, running my fastest marathon (only a few days before turning 42) and finishing second to Anne Haug, the then current IRONMAN World Champion.

That was the start.

We headed into 2022, and had one of my best years in the sport. The IRONMAN World Championships from 2020 had been postponed and relocated to St. George, Utah in May 2022. It was a course that excited me, and suited me as an athlete, and the build, off the back of Roth, and leading into St. George (including a fantastic training camp we (JDCrew) did in St. George a month prior), had gone well.

Race morning, and during the warm up I got fully whacked on my head, which sent me dizzy for a few seconds, and I had to re compose myself. (After I crossed the line at the end of the race, I went straight to medical, as had been bleeding out of my ear on the bike, and couldn’t hear that much out of it.) Again I digress.

I was in a bit of disbelief when I crossed the line in St. George, 7th in the World. It was more than I’d ever thought possible when I first took the leap to turn Pro.

Dibs then planted the seed in a mic drop statement, along the lines of “wouldn’t it be cool to have two top 10 finishes in the World Champs in the same year”. Whilst I’d come 7th in St. George, Kona was a different beast, and everyone turned up to Kona, so the thought of getting a top 10 there, was a little crazy I thought, but also, if Dibs believe, then perhaps I should too.

On October 6th 2022 (a Thursday, as it was the first year of split day for women and men, both racing in Kona), I crossed the finish line on Ali’i Drive, by Dig Me Beach, in 10th! Fuck Me!

We did it!

Riding the high from Roth, and 2022, I headed into 2023 excited. I still felt I was learning, and improving and still felt there were so many areas where I could improve. I headed to IRONMAN Brazil in May, with the goal of qualifying for the 2023 IRONMAN World Championships, but also, of course trying to win. The chances to win are hard in the sport as it is, but as you get older it’s even harder, and we felt this was a good chance to go for it!

I probably arrived in Brazil even fitter than I had been for Kona. I knew I was in good shape, from the sessions we’d put together, but I probably didn’t realize quite how good a shape I’d been in till afterwards. Hindsight is a glorious thing!

I had one of my very best swims in Brazil. The course was an M shape, coming back into the beach before back out into the surf, and I excited the water and headed to T1 in the font chase pack (sitting in 6th), just 4mins 45seconds behind the leader, a Brazilian and two time Olympian! (Also amazing, as my goggles had snapped on the start line, and fortunately, one of the race swim sponsors was standing there and could hand me a spare pair.)

Onto the bike, and I quickly moved through to establish myself in 2nd, chasing down the leader. The bike was two laps, 90km each, and headed out onto the the main highway for a segment, before returning to Transition, and heading out for lap 2.

Things I remember, it was or had been raining. I had come off the highway and was heading back to Transition on some of the smaller single lane roads, towards the turnaround to start the second lap. I remember looking down at my Garmin and seeing it said 85km, and thinking - “yep that seems about right” for where I was in the race.

Things I don’t remember… what happened next.

Things I remember, the next minute, I was '“waking up” sitting on the other side of the road. An Ambulance was there. I remember seeing my bike laid out on its side on the grass, with all my drinks bottles lined up next to it, all very neat. But I knew where I was - I was in a race, in Brazil, I knew who I was, and the day/date, but I had no idea how the hell I’d gone from riding my bike, to sitting on the other side of the road with an ambulance already there.

Apparently someone had seen it happen from a distance, or found me shortly after, lying unconscious on the road. I’m not sure for how long I was unconscious, it was a while I’m told but, not sure. Apparently then, I was talking and speaking, but not sure I was making any sense, and can’t remember any of this. I also must has ‘come round’ to get from unconscious, lying on the road, to now sitting at the side of the road, surrounded by people.

They took me to hospital, where I had a scan. I think at this point, I was thinking, I’d have the precautionary scan and be back out on the race course able to cheer the athletes on during the run. I think the first time, I actually saw a clock and had any concept of time, it was already 7pm in the evening, so that threw, my thoughts of getting back out to watch the race, out of the window.

For much of this time, I remember just lying on a hospital bed, still in my race kit, which was drenched from the rain. I remember shivering, to which some kind nurse brought a blanket I think. But I was just lying on a bed, in the corridor of a hospital, in Brazil. Doctors and nurses passing by in all directions. Patients rolling passed pushed in beds, wheel chairs, or walking, drip in hand. It was like one of those surreal moments when you are almost invisible, but here you are, lying on a hospital bed in a corridor, as hospital life rushes by. I had no idea what was happening, no way of communicating with anyone. I had no phone, as that was in my morning clothes bag, back at the race, so had no way of speaking to anyone I knew. No way of telling anyone I was ok. Or to ask if I’d be ok.

The scan came back showing I had a brain bleed. I didn’t really know what this meant, but was told they would be keeping me in over night. At this point I have I think been moved from the corridor to an open room with several other patients. But I still didn’t really know what was happening. I still had nothing other than the race kit I’d come in with. No way of getting in touch with anyone. The hospital would of course try to find someone who spoke English to come and try to explain things, but it was very sporadic and sparse. I remember at one point, just saying and repeating, that I wanted to go home, and just not knowing what was going on.

At some point in the evening, I did get told that I was actually being transferred to another hospital. From the crash, I’d been taken to the local hospital, but the race had a partnership with a private hospital, and I think obviously word got back to the race director, and I was told someone was coming to pick me up. When though? I had no idea. So I just waited…again.

I think I arrived at the new hospital sometime around midnight. I think I was transported in an ambulance, rolling the bed up and in again. It was definitely a different set up, as I was wheeled into a smaller room with a couple of other athletes from the race. These guys I think had crashed on the day, and had been there for a few hours, even though my crash was early on in the day, I’d only just made it to this hospital. Additionally here, more people spoke English. I was told the race director was coming, and I also finally managed to ask if there was a chance someone could bring my morning clothes bag, so I would have my phone, so I could let my parents, and my coach know I was ok. (I would also have dry, and non hospital clothes.)

Not too long later, the Race Director did arrive, and had kindly had bought with him my Morning Clothes bag. He told the hospital to get me some food, off a menu that I could chose what I wanted to eat, he also told them to get me a private room. I was very grateful. One of the other first things he said though was that he’d heard there were some motos with the lead female, and that he’d told them not to be there, but what could he do. (IRONMAN Brazil used* to be notorious for the lead motorbikes, and live stream cameras, being quite close to the leading rider. *I say used to be, I can’t comment anymore.) But I did think it was quite strange that this was one of the first things he said to me. Only later, it clicked that he probably had said that because he didn’t want me going to social media and blasting the race after what had happened. Then he asked if I knew what had happened, I told him the limited amount I could remember, where I was in the race, and then ending up in an Ambulance but no knowing what had happened in between. He told me there hadn’t been a car involved. Again this baffled me. How could I just randomly fall off my bike on a straight flat section of road and suffer such a traumatic brain injury. I remember talking with my fellow hospital athletes and non of us could reason with it, and how that could have happened without a vehicle.

I didn’t really sleep that night. I seem to remember they kept the lights on in my room. Or maybe I didn’t know how to turn them off. But they also kept coming in every couple of hours to check on me. Whilst I had my phone, so had now been able to have some conversations with one of my sisters, and also Dibs, and a few jokes along the way (who was my next of kin), I wasn’t really meant to be looking at screens, and I also had the phone but no charger. So I remember it just being a long night.

I had a second scan at some point in the morning, and was told, that fortunately as the bleed hadn’t grown, they wouldn’t have to operate and I would be discharged that morning. Everything is very much on South American time, and whilst I appreciated the medical teams, it just seemed to take for ever to get the scan, get the result, get the analysis from the doctor, be told I would be discharged, to finally being discharged, I think at some point in the afternoon.

A taxi or driver picked me up, and actually drove me straight to the race HQ, as that was where I was told my bike was. Having been told there was no car involved and my bike didn’t have a scratch on it, (by the race director), the team who had my bike had a different story. The bike, whilst it did look ok on the outside, was ‘a write-off’, with the bearing in the head tube. crushed. They also had my helmet. A KASK Bambino Pro Evo. I have always worn KASK, as have always valued the fact they also make work safety helmets (I’m an engineer who always had to wear a hard hat), and horse riding helmets, and I fully believe in their quality and safety standard. Obviously I was very grateful for my helmet this time. But you could see the scuff marks all along the side, and the significant dent in the tail.

They also had photographs of the car, and a police statement that had been taken. The car, missing it’s front bumper (not sure that was as a result of hitting me, I’m not sure), was also ‘owned’ by a driver I think from Argentina, with no insurance!)

It was late in the day, when I finally made it back to my hotel, having collected race bags and bikes. One of the media team from the race, and an ex pro athlete herself (and who funnily enough we’d ridden together back in the days of the Witsup.com Kona ride - if you are old enough you’ll know! lol) was hosting a BBQ and had invited me. I declined her kind offer, not really sure what I was doing to be honest, and figuring best to just rest in my room as much as I can. But amazingly, she left her own BBQ to bring me BBQ take out to my hotel room! She was amazing. Thank you Ana!

I had also fortunately, when I was discharged from the hospital, been cleared to fly back to Boulder the following day, but I had to pack. You know what it’s like, post race! Transitions bags a mess, sticky gels and whatever else over bike and kit. Damp wetsuit. Well think this, but also think this with a concussion, and brain injury. It felt like it took me forever to pack my bike and bags. I had to keep stopping ever few minutes. but we did it.

Before I had gone to Brazil to race, a friend had very kindly upgraded me to Business class, using his points, on the way back. Now, with what had happened, this couldn’t have been more appreciated, as I was able to lie flat, I think with films or music on through my headphones, but not looking at any screens and just still trying to rest.

Arriving back in Denver, I wasn’t now able to drive either, yet my car was at the airport, so I had to get a taxi back to my apartment with my bike and bags. Then, later the same day, good friend Dede Griesbauer drove Dibs and I back to the airport, so we could pick up my car and Dibs then drive me home! She kindly became my transport for the next few weeks in getting around the place, for which I was incredible grateful. As well as everything else Dibs did to support me, including lending me her dog, so I could get out on some walks, as unable to do anything else. Dakota is just the best. He can read your mood and always has the ability to make you smile and feel lighter about life. He is the kindest too. I now have my own dog, Koru. Whilst I grew up with dogs, and had always wanted a dog, it was spending that time, and then more with Dakota, and the benefits I gained from his energy and love, that pushed me to getting Koru.

When I started writing this, it was May 28th, three years to the day when it happened. I think this is the first time I’ve written everything down. I’m not sure. Perhaps I did before, somewhere, but I’ll blame the TBI for shocking memory! lol! I’m not even sure why I’m doing it now, nor if anyone will have got this far, in this novel, to still be reading. I’m sure most would have been bored after the first few lines, and swiped or clicked on.

I’m sure people are reading are thinking, just move on, and get over it, it was three years ago. I can even hear their specific voices in my head, saying this, maybe my own too, as I’m still trying to work out, if and what it has or did impact, if anything, or if I am just … well I’m not sure. Is it some kind of therapy, or processing, I don’t know.

But figure as my mum keeps wanting me to write a book, I’d better start somewhere so she can read it one day! lol

And so we begin….

And then I thought of my own impressive performance this weekend, and why not share that.

(Just for the ‘lost in translation’ amongst us, the above sentence is written with British sarcasm and you’ll see why! Read on.)

Saturday night, and I was working with the BCC team, in the studio, behind the scenes for IRONMAN 70.3 Aix en Provence. I had driven to the Coot Lake in the afternoon with Koru to tire him out, swimming and chasing the ball. No issues.

Just a few hours later I drove Koru around to a friend’s house (let’s call her Michelle) for his sleepover whilst I was working overnight. The car made a bit of a splutter and jerk as it started, but it did start and I dropped Koru off. When I then tried to start the car to get home… nothing. Dead. Kaput. Nada. My friend (Michelle) who had already jumped into her PJs, and was in bed in the space of me dropping Koru and walking back down her drive to my car. (Note: Her drive is not a mile long driveway, but just your normal short distance from the front door to the sidewalk (or pavement for my non American friends). Anyway, Michelle kindly drove me, in her car back home, as unfortunately her car isn’t able to jump start others. But anyway. So, once I was back home, I ordered an Uber to then take me into the studios. Once we’d finished recording, I Uber’d back – and who knew Uber was more expensive at 0515hrs on a Sunday morning than at 9pm on a Saturday night! (There went a couple of hours of my work too!)

I then walked back to my Michelle’s house to collect Koru, and on the route texted another friend, (let’s call him Mike) to see if he was free and able to come and help me jump start my car. Fortunately, at 7am on a Sunday morning, he was, and he kindly came to my rescue. The positive of this is, that I’ve never actually jump started a car. I have the leads, but have never gone through the process, so this was a great learning and feel more confident going forward.

The engine kicked into gear! Wahoo! And I drove straight to Autozone (not sponsored, other battery replacement, automotive part shops are available). I was paranoid on the way that I’d get a red light, and car would shut down on ‘autostop’ and I’d be stuck in the middle of a road. So, I tried to time every light and every turn, to get green, this meant slowing down early for a red light, and slowly crawling forward, not allowing the car to stop, until the light turned green and I could proceed (of course with care and caution, as is the Highway Code)!

I made it to the battery shop, who confirmed my battery was dead, bad, and needed to be replaced. Doh!

However, they weren’t able to do it themselves, because too many parts needed removed. Or as Mike said is it because “it’s a fancy design”. I mean it’s not like I have a flash car, it’s a MINI countryman, but I guess, yes, it’s too complicated for your normal battery repair place.

I then asked them to jump start me again, so that I could drive home, but instead of driving home. I drove straight to the garage, over the road from my apartment and pulled up in a parking bay in front of the garage, very aware of the “Unauthorized vehicles will be towed” signs all around.

So, I thought, I’d write a couple of notes and put them on the car, asking not to be towed and explain the situation, and that I’d be back first thing when they opened. I put one note under my windscreen wiper on the front, and another under the rear windscreen wiper, again slightly worried someone would remover the notes, and then someone remove my car.

And yes, here is the moment of genius you’ve been waiting for…

it genuinely never occurred to me, until a few hours later, when it was now raining, so my worry of the notes being removed, was added to with them disintegrating in the rain, but no, it never occurred to me until this moment – to put the note inside the car on the dash board!

Right! Seriously! It worries me that I’m not sure how I survive in this world sometimes!

Fortunately, with the garage just being over the road, I wrote a new note, and walked over to place it inside the car, and only had a mild panic rounding the corner of the garage and thinking for a split second my car had been towed! Lol

You’ll have to wait now in suspense to see if when I write my next substack…

Was the car towed or not?

Did I get a new battery?

Do you really give a shit?

dun dun deeeeeeeerrrr (said in that creepy, scary movie voice/drum type vibe!)

So, let’s go back to some true high performances over the past couple of weeks.

He came, He Sawe, He Conquered – I still had to use this heading. I would love to claim it, but it isn’t mine, so want to give credit to an actual journalist, Sean Ingle. But it’s in reference to Sebastian Sawe winning The London Marathon, and doing so in under 2hours. The first man (or woman) to run sub 2hours in a competitive race (e.g. not the Nike Breaking 2 project). Also, to Yomif Kejelcha. Can you imagine, in your debut marathon, breaking the previous course record, breaking the World Record, and then seeing you broke the illusive 2hours mark, yet you came second! Kiplomo, who finished third, also broke the previous world record, but sadly is relatively forgotten with Sawe’s and Kejelcha’s performance.

In the women’s race, we also saw World Records being broken, with the winner, Tigst Assefa running 2:15:41. This is a women’s only world record, which means it was a women’s only race, no men or male pacers, just women racing and female pacers. It was just as exciting if not more so, from a race perspective, as there were still three women running together until Assefa kick with about 400m to go. Hellen Obiri couldn’t go with her, to finish in second 2:15:53, with Joyciline Jepkosgei in third, 2:15:55. The women set out at a much faster pace (relatively), slowing slightly in the later stages, but also possible as it started to come down to tactics of Assefa and Obiri. Assefa won in London in 2025, but for Obiri it was her first time running in London. Obiri normally known for racing New York or Boston, coming to London to take on a different style of course, and looking more than capable to take the win in future years! Perhaps some good battles to be head. It is a slight shame that Assefa’s world record, will go almost unnoticed with the euphoria of Sawe breaking sub 2hours.

I have to admit I have not run any of the Major Marathons. Well, that’s a lie, I did run Sydney Marathon back in 2009 when I’d just started triathlon and had stupidly, like most complete beginners, signed up for an Ironman, and my coach thought we needed to do a marathon before the marathon in the Ironman. To be fair, I think I did too. So, I did Sydney, but it wasn’t part of the Majors back then. So, I haven’t actually run any of the Majors, and therefore probably am not in a position to comment, but, (well what is substack and social media for if not too impart our views on other people) I do feel London kicks ass! I think this is probably a completely biased view from being British. But the whole city just comes out for the day. The whole route is lined with supporters, cheering, supporting, clapping, singing, dancing, everything. If that doesn’t restore your faith in humanity, I’m not sure what will. A lot of these crowds don’t even know anyone running, but just come out to support and be part of it!

London, I think is special, because it attracts a huge number of people who run for charity, but also in fancy dress (*costume for my USA readers, not black tie fancy). So, apart from being the biggest marathon in the world from competitor numbers, it’s also the largest annual one-day fundraising event in the world. In 2025 the race set a new record of £87.3million, and early, unconfirmed reports suggest the 2026 event may have even surpassed this to top £95million.

Some of the costumes are insane too. A lot for charity, and a lot for to get the Guinness World Record, for the fastest person running as…. “ INSERT RANDOM ATTIRE”. There’s always someone dressed as a Rhino, running for “Save the Rhinos”. Iain Grigor completed the fastest marathon dress as a train (male); Simon Fannon, knitted the longest scarf whilst running a marathon, 5.59m of scarf in 5:48:08. I guess the slower you go the longer the scarf! Reef Rounding (yes that’s his real name for a start), broke the record for the fastest marathon dresses as a camera! A guy ran 3:21:42 for the fastest marathon wearing a suit and dress shoes! And wait for it… Harley Smith ran a 2:47:42… wearing clogs! WTF! Daddy Pig (for my little readers – IYKYK) also ran.

Then there are stories like Jordan, who ran with a fridge on his back! Yes that’s right. Running with a 25kg fridge on his back. Jordan Adams and his brother Cian, both carry a rare gene for frontotemporal dementia – the same condition that took their mum, Geraldine, at just 52. Jordan was and is running to raise awareness for the disease, knowing he and his brother could potentially lose their lives to dementia in the next 10-15years. He has, after London, gone on to Ireland to continue running marathons and raising awareness and money.

There are countless other stories, as moving as Jordan’s too.

A performance that may have gone unnoticed was the incredible pacing that Alex Yee did. Yee the Paris Olympic Gold medalist in triathlon, and also a 2:06:38 marathoner himself, paced a group of British men through halfway in 63:15 which was exactly to the second the time set out pre race. He then carried on through to 28.15km in a time of 1:23:50 which is 2:59/km- or around 2:06 for the full.

Another performance recently that left me glued to my TV for 5 days, pretty much straight, was Cocadona 250. A 250mile point to point ultramarathon in Arizona, with only 40,000feet of elevation gain. It starts in Sonoran Desert near Black Canyon City, and takes runners across rugged terrain to the finish line in Flagstaff. In just over 56hours, 56hours, 9minutes and 48seconds to be exact, Rachel Entrekin, crossed the line, not just being the first female across the line and lowering her own course record by over 7hours, but being the first person, female or male, to cross the line, and setting the overall course record, beating the 2025 men’s course record as well! She was over an hour ahead of 2^nd place, the first placed male. She slept for just 19mins across the two and a half days (approx.) She also had a dialed in crew, knowing exactly their role and responsibility at aid stations. From measuring out every empty gel wrapper, checking ever bottle to see how much she’d drunk in order to calculate the number of calories that Rachel had taken, and how many she would need for the next stop. It was impressive to say the least, and perhaps also an indication of just how friggin awesome women can be if we invest fully in them, and give them the support and means to perform to their best and equal to their male counterparts.

There’s a really great podcast with Rachel - Rest Day, The Freetrail Podcast

It’s fascinating to listen to her mindset and thoughts about the race.

and I’ll just leave you with one of her thoughts…

“Why not me?” - someone has to win, so “why not you?”

“Why not try?”

But the injury got me thinking…

At the start of the year I joined a new training group, Boulder AC, led by coach Kathy Butler. It’s an awesome group, who have truly welcomed me as part of the squad and whilst everyone puts the work in, and trains hard, and everyone has their own goals and races they are going after. We also have a lot of laughs and lot of fun.

But then, I went and got a stress fracture, and I’ve not been able to run. So, at a time when I just thought I was settling into this new group, and starting to build a new community, something very much needed for various reasons, it all disappeared. Well, I know it didn’t, but that’s what it felt like.

I know they are still there and will be when I get back to running. They have actually been great at checking in and messaging. I’ve also made myself go out to the sessions, just near the end to watch and heckle… sorry I meant support and cheer, and to try to still feel part of something. (Oh and for the coffee after!)

When I started Triathlon, I’d joined a group called Bondifit, and the group dynamic was so important, I believe, in my now love of the sport.

I come from a team sports background too. I grew up playing Netball and Hockey for various teams and at various levels and there is something special about a team environment and camaraderie.

For many years I travelled around the world moving place to place for training and racing. I had some great friends in different locations, but was only ever in one place for a short space of time. Nomadic I think was attached to me for many years, as a triathlete.

Having been nomadic for years, (living in many amazing places, but also never really living and belonging anywhere), when I was deciding to change coaches, I wanted a coach with a group and squad that did training sessions and/or camps together and one that were, if not mostly in one location, one that came together regularly.

Apart from Julie Dibens (Dibs) and her coaching reputation, which was good enough reason for me to want to work with Dibs. (To which, I will also add (her coaching) is seriously underrated. Yes, biased but justified!) Dibs had a group and a squad (JDC). Although, she was based in Boulder, and I was at my, “I’m never going to back to live in the USA again” phase. (I’d lived in San Francisco in 2014-2016 in a squad, but one of a very different kind and just never clicked with the whole environment, but that’s a story for another day.) At first, Dib’s coached me remotely, living in Girona (which I loved), with a different kind of community that I was starting to feel part of, until I wasn’t. So, I had to bite the bullet on my “never want to live in the USA” again, and I moved to Boulder. And look at me now, three years (and hopefully more – Please USA immigration), in Colorado – the Boulder bubble and who’s who or triathlon! I moved for Dibs’ coaching in person, but then also the incredible set up she had built and the athletes she worked with. The community.

Remember those Covid years. The endless months of lock down. Whilst some of us loved not having to speak to anyone, (ha ha yes me too at times), we also all craved a connection, and being or feeling part of something. Joining everyone in the street and village, clapping at 7pm to thank the vital health workers. (I was in the UK staying at with my sister and her family (the “come stay for a couple of weeks whilst this blows over” into 6months and counting!) To online catch ups and meet ups. At JDC, we started a Zwift ride. Once a fortnight, we’d all log on from wherever we were in the world, and all ride, and I loved it. It made me feeling like I was part of the group. We even carried them on for a few years after lock down, and still were always one of my favourite sessions. Well, from the community and group aspect, not the actual session itself as they were often 90mins of heinous efforts and power! Ha ha! I also always loved the training camps we’d go on, when everyone would be together working with and towards their own goals. The group environment.

After Challenge Roth in 2025, one of the hardest things I found was not being part of the group and community. I’d moved to Boulder for the sport, for the group, and as a Professional, we spend our time training, and with the squad training. Suddenly it felt like it had been taken away and I was being kicked out, on the outside. Rejected. Whilst I knew I had to move on, that wasn’t going to be an instant thing, and in a time with a lot of things changing in life and up in the air, I wanted and needed something constant. Something familiar that I knew. I still wanted to have some connection with a group that had been so much of my life. I suddenly felt alone, and not part of it. A squad you have been involved in, and would have done anything for your fellow squad members, (and loyalty is one of my values), suddenly felt like you were forgotten, insignificant, and no longer part of it or welcome. (I know this wasn’t necessarily the case, but these are the stories we tell ourselves, and this is how it felt. It fucking sucked.)

The Artemis II. The Space mission or Moon Joy as it was called at times. I don’t know if you got as absorbed as I did. But I loved following the crew with their updates, amazing photos, beautiful descriptions and the odd Nutella jar floating across space! (I have to admit, when they launched on 1^st April, I thought it was an April Fool, as I had completely missed any press leading up to announce the launch and mission.) Whilst there are a lot of other reasons we got sucked in and found so much “moon joy” in their mission, part of it I feel was that feeling of being connected. United by something that captivated and brought so many together, and with so much good news, joy, positivity and love. It blows my mind to think of the Astronauts in space, floating with no gravity, just orbiting, yet able to do that due to the Moon and Earths gravitational pull… again connecting.

Anyone still reading?

Where am I going with this… well… (to be honest not totally sure myself)

I think it’s the strength of community we all crave and that is so important in our health and wellbeing. I know that’s nothing knew or ground breaking, but however introverted we are, we all still want to feel part of something, and included.

Believe me, I love my alone time (heck I’ve had 25+ odd years of it ha ha). I’m very much an introvert. Sometimes, the thought of going to an event, even something casual at someone’s house (even with people I know) all the way to a more formal, industry or business related function, frankly sends me into sweaty arm pit territory with anxiety. What am I going to say and ask? How do I do that small talk chat? It’s always an awkward pause. People think I’m boring and have nothing to talk about. Can I just pretend to be looking at something, or constantly getting a drink, or if I keep going to the bathroom, so I don’t have to talk to anyone, or I look busy. Seriously!

In my mid 40s, living in a relatively new place, suddenly having to find a whole new community to feel part of something is well, apart from daunting, it’s a whole lot of energy, effort and hard work. When you are not at 100% of your operating capacity, and have been struggling to be or find who you are, this just is a whole lot of overwhelm more and too much to cope with. All you want is safety and familiarity.

As someone that loves the group, but is also fiercely independent and walled, I didn’t realize quite how important community was until it felt like it was taken away. The safety net when everything else was turning, falling, changing and disappearing.

I also think, when you have that group and that community, the introvert time also thrives. You can re charged and get your alone time, because you know there’s strength in the community you are part of. (That’s not taking it for granted, it’s valuing and appreciating it’s there, allowing for you to feed the other parts of your energy systems too.) But when it’s not there, the solo time is deafening. It weighs oppressively, pushing you out and away. Excluding you further, and out-casting you.

It takes a lot to change that and be proactive. A lot of the time you know you have to overcome it, but it’s almost too much, too heavy. But ultimately, you have to dig deep to go beyond. Simply inviting a few people for coffee after a swim, or trying to get a group together for Taco Tuesday. Especially when everyone else has their own lives to live and be busy at. However hard it is, you have to keep making the effort. You have to keep trying to show up, in the uncomfortable situations. You have to keep trying to arrange things, even when the voice shouts at you, that no one wants to join you.

Because you’ve seen it. You’ve seen the strength in the group - a training group, a work team, a high performing squad, a friendship circle. The benefits in camaraderie. The stress that can also be lifted, when we just walk together or sit together, you don’t even need to say anything sometimes. The laughter and energy you can gain. The memories you make and hold. The smiles. The buzz you can walk away with.

It’s just feeling like you belong.

Oh, yes the injury. Well I got to jump too footed this week. Who knew jumping could be so daunting and scary and yet so exciting at the same time!

And thank you to everyone who’s subscribed already (and hopefully doesn’t unsubscribe after this second post and the disappointing realization, it’s not as earth shattering or journalistic genius, as you were expecting! I promise this will be a more regular thing as I get into the swing of it, but given it’s taken me several months (if not years) to start this in the first place, the fact that this is “only” a 2-3week gap from first to this, then I think that’s a win! Right?

I’ve been wanting to start this for a while (a blog, substack, random thoughts, musings, whatever it is), but I’ve been waiting for some light bulb moment or pearls of wisdom to pass on, from my many years (do I sound old and wise or an idiot? Actually don’t answer that)…but frankly that was never going to happen (disappointing for you I’m sure, as well as me! Ha ha) and we’d all be waiting a while… so let’s just go for it!

But this is definitely not the blog I wanted to kick off with or to write at all if I’m honest.

So, I have a stress fracture. A nondisplaced, incomplete stress fracture of the distal fibular metadiaphysis. And to be honest a lot more with tendon tears, edemas and the rest. They said, when the report came through, that you only want to see one line (and ideally one that says… “nothing wrong, carry on”), and not an essay, with everything that wasn’t right, which is what I got. Doh!

How did I get here? I have no idea.

I went for my long run on Sunday March 22^nd, and had a great run, and three weeks out from Desert Rats 50km I was getting the mix of excitement and nerves. Then Sunday afternoon, as I was just around the house, my foot and ankle started to cease up and hurt. I tried to run on Monday morning, thinking maybe it would loosen, but stopped pretty soon, having the conversation in my head “do I push through” or “do I stop”, “I can push on, I think” or, “should I stop, is that stupid” and everything that goes around those thoughts and actions as an athlete.

Fast forward a few days and no real improvement (and hadn’t run since), so we got an MRI, and whilst I lay in the machine chanting to myself “please don’t let there be anything wrong, please don’t let there be anything wrong” – the results showed that there was. Bummer!

So, what now, well I’m off running for the next few weeks and limiting everything for the first few days to take as much weight and load off as possible. So, “Hello” boot and cruches! Then we hope to rebuild with cycling and other activities, before bringing the run in. Koru, my springer spaniel puppy (well teenager as he’s 20months, and testing all the boundaries), is going up the walls, as he hasn’t had his usual runs the past couple of weeks (he comes running with me) and I’m going up the walls as well;

1. because he is, and also,

2. I don’t now have my outlet either, which is so important for me mentally and physically (more on that in the future).

Of course, as with any injury, you relive what caused it? What did I do or didn’t do? Especially when it’s a stress fracture, and over use injury. It feels like a failure.

If I’d rolled my ankle, or if I’d run through and on, ignoring pain, then I’d understand. I’d be an idiot but I’d understand. But non of that had happened. Did I do too much volume? If anything, I felt it wasn’t enough for the plans I had. Did I get enough rest? I didn’t feel overly tired or over trained or that it was too much or too hard. Was my eating and fuelling right? I felt I was ticking these boxes in the right way. For sure we can always do better, and it has been a hard time at the moment, and sometime stress just attacks the weakest point? Was that, for me, my fibula?

Also, thoughts of “oh the new girl joins the squad and can’t handle it, because a few months later she’s injured” and of course with the type of injury. These things all play around in my head.

Things happen for a reason, or “things happen….. reason.” What is the story or learning behind this? What is my body trying to tell me that I need to take away? So many questions and very few answers at the moment.

But it’s a stress fracture, and we have to now find the plan forward, and put that in place and execute to the very best of my ability. Because I effing hate being an injured athlete and want to be back running.

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For 2026, I’ve tweaked my focus to a big running goal at the end of the year. More to come about that in future blogs, (and I can assure you even with this hiccup it is still the plan). But it’s almost a full circle (literally) back to running moment, which was where I started sport as a kid. That blonde haired little kid, on the athletics track, sprinting down the straight, jumping into the sand, and eventually running the 400mH, 400m and 800m.

Additionally, then team sports of Netball and Hockey, and then for the past 17years triathlon (5 as an Amateur, 12 as a Professional), but now taking a little detour back to running.

I’ve joined a running group here in Boulder and I’ve met a great group of badass women under the watchful eye of Kathy Butler. What is it about me and British coaches in the USA?! Ha ha! Kathy an ex GBR international, and two time Olympian, and competed over the 5000m, 10000m and marathon (and was a five time NCAA Champion (for my American readers ) She now lives here in Boulder, (well actually up in Nederland) and runs Boulder AC. The group have welcomed me, and really made me feel part of the squad straight away, which has been so valuable in this transition and finding myself again. I was just starting to feel I was “getting my feet under the table”, finding fitness and moving forward.

We are still moving forward, just a little stress fracture road bump in the way. Or as I see it, the mountain I’m trying to scale has got just a little bit higher. But hopefully that means the view from the top when we get there will be even sweeter!

So that mountain, as said more to come in later blogs… oh the suspense to keep you hooked and signing up for this blog! Ha ha!

Sid x

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