tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23004252490979395552024-03-14T10:47:09.715+00:00Something Sparkly and StuffHalf of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.comBlogger41125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-30175822252060321932011-01-21T09:28:00.002+00:002011-01-21T10:49:19.878+00:00The true nature of altruism<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.rbcpcpreschool.net/images/Giving%20hands%200137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://www.rbcpcpreschool.net/images/Giving%20hands%200137.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Altruism is defined as a selfless concern for others welfare.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;">Pure altruism is giving without regard to reward or the benefits of recognition and need.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 19px;">How many times do we do things in our daily lives, which directly benefit others, at no cost to ourselves? Is altruism different to common courtesy, politeness and a general sense of compassion towards others? If we give money to help victims of natural disasters, or the starving in the developing world, is that an altruistic gesture, or do we do it to assuage our guilt, at the sneaky little voice at the back of our mid that says thank god it wasn't me? Every day we do little things that we don't need to do, to help out other people, such as letting someone into the traffic ahead of you...but then we get irritated if someone doesnt acknowledge it, or do the same for you.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 19px;">There are, i think genuinely few instances of pure altruism. moments or opportunities in our lives that can have a direct benefit to someone else, with no reward other than knowing we have done a good thing. Being a<a href="http://www.blood.co.uk/"> blood donor</a> is a really simple was of giving, to directly benefit others. How many of us will end up having a transfusion in our lives, as a result of an accident,or surgery, or even treatment for other illnesses. My dads wife is having treatment for breast cancer at the moment. The drugs she is taking have knocked her iron levels down, to such an extent, that she had to have a blood transfusion before Christmas, in order to help her function at a somewhat normal level. So, if you are a blood donor, please be proud of yourself, and accept my thanks. I intend to sign up as soon as i am able; no more excuses. If you can, you should. Because you just never know.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 19px;">I wish, when my babies were small, i had known about <a href="http://www.ukamb.org/donor.html">milk donation</a>. As a breastfeeding mother, i could see the benefits of breast milk, in the growth and development of my infant. Every day, there are hundreds of tiny, premature babies in special care nurseries who, for one reason or another cannot be sustained by their mothers milk. Donated breast milk can literally save their lives, and help them to recover, to grow and go home. Which is where all babies should be. A good friend of mine recently gave birth to twins, who needed to be in special care for the first few weeks of their lives. They were lucky enough to have donated breast milk. That, with their mothers milk gave them the best start. and they are now at home, and growing into beautiful strong healthy babies.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 19px;">Are you on the <a href="http://www.organdonation.nhs.uk/ukt/">register</a>? When i first passed my driving test, and got my license, back in the days when it was just a piece of paper, it used to come with a slip on the bottom, to be filled in, to indicate your desire to become an organ donor. I filled it in, and put it somewhere safe. Over the years, i have filled in umpteen donor cards, and then invariably lose them. So, to simplify things, you can now register to be an <a href="http://www.organdonation.nhs.uk/ukt/">organ donor online</a>. Of course, being on the donor register, doesn't mean you will become a donor. So many things depend on it, not least of which are that your family have to give permission for your organs to be used after your death. In their time of sorrow and distress, a doctor has to approach them, and ask if they will allow your body to be used to save the lives of many others. So. if you are on the register, discuss it with your friends and family, and make sure that they know. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;">Of course, there is another way you can help others after your death, which many people don't think about. Today's medical students are tomorrows doctors. The people who will help you stay healthy, who will help you to fight disease, who will treat illnesses. And those students need to learn. There is only so much that cant be learnt by reading books, by browsing the internet and by attending lectures. Nothing quite beats hands on experience. And this experience can only be gleaned in one way; by studying human anatomy and physiology in the flesh. Literally. Some people decide to </span><a href="http://www.hta.gov.uk/bodyorganandtissuedonation/howtodonateyourbody.cfm" style="line-height: 19px;">donate their bodies for scientific research.</a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"> I am not sure i could do it, but maybe that is because i have met a lot of medical students, but it might be right for you!</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 19px;">Finally, what has prompted me to write about altruistic gestures today? As i write, I am sat in a hospital room, waiting for a friend to come back from surgery. He is a middle aged, single man, with no children, who is going under the knife today, in order to save the life of a stranger. A child, at this moment is waiting to receive a bone marrow donation, which will hopefully transform their life. Donated by my friend, a stranger, because he can. Because he is a match. He doesn't get paid for it,he gets no real reward, other than the knowledge that he has done a good thing.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 19px;">And, of course, he has my utmost respect. And i am very proud of him.</span><br />
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</span>Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-775702285342585842011-01-07T18:14:00.000+00:002011-01-07T18:14:41.397+00:00Randy Cats and having it off.Calliste is in season. It is quite funny really. She has got over her shyness, and has turned into a complete tart! she is chirruping, miaowing, rubbing herself on anything and anyone, and is just desperate for a bit of boy cat love. Which she isnt getting!<br />
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We picked her up from the cats home last tuesday, and she spent much of the first few days hiding under the sofa. She would come out and allow us to stroke her, but only when it suited her. Any attempts to pick her up resulted in her bolting back to safety. But over the last few days she has come out of her shell, bounds up and down the stairs, plays in the kids rooms and is so friendly and affectionate. It is a joy to behold. And the fact that she is in season shows how happy and settled she is.<br />
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Last night i went along to the running club, to join in the engagement congratulations of the club chair and her partner. I was asked by several people, if i was looking forward to having it off. They were, of course, referring to my brace! I had an appointment with the spinal consultant today, Mr B. He is a bit of a dish... We talked about kindles Vs Ipads, the glorious defeat of the australians in the ashes, and then finally my back. I have started healing well. The bone is mending and recalcifying, so i am allowed to take the brace off, when i am at home pottering. But, the best news is that i am allowed to do some 'gentle exercise' :-) . Of course, this means no marathons, no mountain biking and no ice skating....but i can do some stationary cycling, some pilates, some walking and some swimming, depending on how it feels.<br />
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So, back to work on monday.....for a maximum of 3 hours a day....<br />
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so am not having it off yet.....:-)Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-43608735602201763522011-01-05T19:28:00.000+00:002011-01-05T19:28:24.545+00:00Experimental cauliflower. Thanks to Riverford. And Clare. And Duncan too!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.freefoto.com/images/09/11/09_11_15---Cauliflower_web.jpg?&k=Cauliflower" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://www.freefoto.com/images/09/11/09_11_15---Cauliflower_web.jpg?&k=Cauliflower" width="200" /></a></div>I decided this year to try and get the kids to eat more veg. They eat quite a lot, the challenge is to get them to eat more, and in a more varied manner.As it has been so cold recently, i have taken to keeping a box of veg in the utility room. It means it is nice and cold, but isnt languishing at the back of the fridge unloved and ignored...(some might say it was labguishing in the utility room, but thats another thing altogether!)<br />
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The kids like brocolli, cauliflower, potatoes. Beans, NOT cooked carrots and various other things. But i will confess that the prospect of producing another dish of cauliflower cheese for tonights supper, just did not appeal.<br />
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For Christmas i was fortunate to recieve a lovely book; <a href="http://www.riverford.co.uk/shop/kitchen_kit/riverford_cook_book/">Riverford Farm Cook Book</a>. This book is beautiful. I am a huge fan of <a href="http://www.riverford.co.uk/">Riverford farm</a>, who operate an organic veg box scheme. There are of course, pros and cons of organic produce, which i wont go into here, but what i think is more important is eating seasonally. It aggrieves me when the kids want to buy watermelons in december, especially when we have a glut of them on holiday which i cant persuade them to eat. Worse still, for me, is the appearance of rows and rows of perfect, uniform apples. None of which are british. My favourite apple is discovery, which is a lovely pink blush apple,. almost floral in frgrance and taste, and has such a short season that i go direct to the orchard and pick them, as there is no point in waiting for the 'big 4' to get them in. By the time they do (if indeed they do) they are but shadows of their former beautiful pink perfumed selves.<br />
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Anyway, i digress. Riverford. Seasonal food, [picked and delivered fresh. Yes, of course there are food miles involved. Our farm, Upper Norton is in Hampshire, so a bit closer to us than the original Riverford Farm. If i deliver by weds evening, i will have delivered fresh to my door on Friday, by the lovely Jake, a box of deliciously fresh, muddy, earthy veggies, a leaflet with a recipe on it, and excitement. Yes, sad, i know, but i get excited when i delve into the box, and remove twisted carrots, earthy parsnips, and leeks that seem to be about 3 feet long.<br />
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So this evening, with a cauliflower in hand, i turned to my nice new book. I have found if i tell the kids EXACTLY what is going into something, i normally end up with a mutiny on my hands. So tonight i didnt..i glossed over the 4 shiny salty little anchovy fillets, that i mashed into garlicky oil. There would have been a riot otherwise.<br />
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I present, for your delectation, Pasta, with cauliflower, garlic and anchovies.<br />
Very simple.<br />
Cook florets of cauliflower in boling salted water for 5 mins.<br />
Meanwhile, gentle cook one or 2 garlic cloves, chopped small in olive oil, without browning them too much. Rinse and finely chop the anchovies (i had whole fish in salt, that i brought home from france last summer) and mash into the garlic and oil.<br />
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At this point, i removed the cauliflower using a slotted spoon and put it into the frying pan with the oil/garlic/anchovy mix, and put the pasta (the recipe states penne, but we had twirls) into the cauliflower water to cook.<br />
I mixed the cauliflower round, then covered the pain and cooked on a low heat for about 6 minutes. Took the lid off, mashed the cauliflower a bit, and added a good shake of cayenne pepper (there was mild rebellion, maybe i added too much?)<br />
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Once cooked, i drained the pasta, chucked it into the frying pan, and mixed into the cauliflower mix. A handful of grated cheese and done.<br />
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Dinner.<br />
FG complained about the pepper......FT went back for seconds. Mostly successful.Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-90928039625688485112010-12-22T16:56:00.001+00:002010-12-22T17:16:34.771+00:00An open letter...Dear Car driver who knocked me off my bike,<br />
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Please forgive me for addressing you in such an impersonal way. I would love to be able to address this letter to you personally, but as you have failed to report our incident to the police, or admitted any involvement at all, i am forced to address you as i have.<br />
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How are you? I hope you are well, and looking forward to Christmas with your family. For your children, a joyful time, with, i expect much playing in the snow. Unfortunately, i am not able to play in the snow with my children, as i dare not take the risk of falling, and doing further injury to my back. But of course, i am sure that doesn't bother you, or cause you to lose any sleep at night. By the way, how do you sleep at night? better than me i hope. It is very hard to sleep with a broken back. You see, i cant move around much, i cant roll over or get into a comfortable sleeping position. But then, i would imagine it isn't easy to sleep with a guilty conscience either?<br />
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In case you have forgotten, we met on November 12th. I was cycling home, from the swimming pool, when you pulled along side me, in your car, and turned left, staright into my bike. Do you remember? I was wearing a fluorescent yellow jacket, a helmet and had lights on my bike, if it helps to jog your memory? Notice the somewhat ironic use of the word jog there? That is something i cant do at the moment. The doctors has assured me i should make a full recovery, but you never can be sure can you? anyway, where was i? oh yes. You turned left, straight into me? Do you remember? It must have made quite a noise as your car turned into my path and i slammed into the side of it. My head and shoulder hit your car quite hard, so hard i have pain down both sides of my neck still, and cant turn my head quickly to either side. I wonder, did my lights flash across your interior, as i fell to the ground behind your car? Do you remember the words you said to me, once i came round, lying on the cold wet ground, in agony as pain blossomed up my back? You said to me that you thought i had gone past. Do you remember? When i was able to mutter anything and pointed out to you that if i had gone past you wouldn't have hit me, your brother, or at least i assume it was him, told me off for cursing. I am sorry, does your God not permit me to swear? Is a shame then that your conscience does not allow you to tell the truth.<br />
My back hurt. You cannot imagine how much my back hurt. But lying on the road, in pain, frightened and cold and wet, shaking in pain and shock, i just wanted to go home. i wanted to be safe. So i allowed myself to be picked up and you brought me home. Probably the last kindness you showed me. You brought me home, and you, your brother, my husband and my children helped me into the house, as i could barely walk. You said sorry, again and again, and then gave us your first name, and a phone number, and said if there was anything you could do to call. And then you left.<br />
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And that was, probably, as far as you were concerned, was the end of it. Except it wasnt, was it. why werent you prepared to admit what you had done? Why, when the police called you, and when i called you, did you deny it? Why did you tell us your name was one thing, and then answer the phone and tell us you were someone else? Are you ashamed? do you feel guilty? I am sure you felt that everything was fine. And nothing to do with you. Well, allow me to fill you in a little on what happened, after you drove off that friday night, slightly delaying your return home, because of what, i am sure you felt, was a minor inconvenience.<br />
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I should perhaps interject at this point in my letter and just tell you a little bit about me. I am Emma, i am a 39 year old mother of 2. I also happen to be a long distance triathlete. Is this relevant? i think so. I love my sport. It has given me a release, a social life, a network of friends, and more confidence and joy that you can probably imagine. In any given week, i will probably ride my bike, run or swim up to 3 or 4 times each. In fact, i had just completed a 2k swim session on the friday night we met. It had gone really well. I was feeling strong and fit, and was really looking forward to the off season, when i would get to ride my new mountain bike, and take part in some off road races, some adventure races, and some off road duathlons. I was also looking forward to getting some good solid base training in on the bike, as i was on the waiting list for ironman lanzarote, and was hopeful of a place. I am the captain of my traithlon club, and i also run with the local running club. I was signed up to do cross country with them this winter, which is always fun.<br />
In addition to my sport, i have 2 lovely happy active children. Right now they are spending the first part of the christmas holidays with their grandparents, as i am unable to look after them properly. In this weather they want to play in the snow, on their sledges, and i cant do that. Currently i am also not able to drive, so even if they were here, we would be stuck indoors. I have a job that i love. I cycle to work every day, and once there, i am a lab manager. This means i have quite an active job. I fix things, i carry things, and i work with some pretty awesome equipment. I work with huge magnets. Really big ones. I love my job.<br />
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But. Lets get back to Friday 12th November. When you left me, i was on the floor, unable to move or breathe properly. I just put it down to a bit of muscle spasm, but after 20 minutes of gas and air, the paramedics who had arrived thought that i ought to go to the hospital, just in case. They had trouble getting me up, and i had to take on so much entonox, i thought i was going to be sick. However, it helped, and i made it to the trolley, so the paramedics could get me to the waiting ambulance. The journey to the John Radcliffe, was fairly uneventful. Bless them, the ambulance guys were really sweet, even doing their best to avoid speed bumps, as they could see how much pain i was in. On arrival at the hospital, they put me in a cubicle, on an x-ray mattress on a trolley and bid me goodbye, as they had come to the end of their shifts. I want to say thank you to them here, if you don't mind. That was probably about 7.15, a mere 85 minutes after we met. I then spent nearly 4 hours, in my cubicle. Alone. They were very busy at the hospital, so no one came to check if i was ok, or if my pain was being managed. Unfortunately, the paramedics had forgotten to hand my the call button before they left, so i was unable to call for any assistance. I dont mind telling you, i did cry quite a lot. I was cold, wet and in pretty bad pain. Nothing life threatening, but it was pretty bad. The side of the trolley was up as well, so i couldn't even get off the bed. This wasn't such a big deal, until i realised i needed the loo. As i was alone, and the staff were so busy, i had to call my friend, who lived down the road. Bless her. She got her lovely daughter out of bed, so she could come to the hospital and help me go to the loo. What price friendship eh? At about 10pm, she managed to find a nurse to give me some pain relief, which was a blessing i can tell you. She then had to go home, taking her sleepy child with her. About 45 mins later, a doctor came to see me, who poked my back a bit and said i needed an x ray. The girls in x ray were lovely. Very gentle with me, even though they were busy, they took their time and were very understanding....and then, some time after 11, so really only 4 short hours after we first met, i was told i had broken my back. Incredible really. Apparently, when i hit the ground, behind your car, i hit it so hard that my pelvis tipped up and compressed one of my lumbar vertebrae. No wonder i was in such pain.<br />
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I spent the friday night on my trolley, in casualty. They were very busy you see, and had no beds anywhere. It was quite an eye opener, i can tell you. There were police, security men, drunks, people who had been punched, or glassed, all sorts of patients. So i spent a sleepless night in my cubicle, on a thin mattress, trying to get some rest and not move. As i am sure you can imagine, it wasnt a good night.<br />
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The next morning, i am taken to trauma, where i am fitted with a brace. It is a thing of beauty. I wish you could see it. The top of it goes across my sternum, then it goes around and down my sides, and there is a big bar across the front of my hips. And then it has a big flat plate that goes across my back. I have been told i have to wear it all the time, apart from when i am sleeping at night....It isnt very comfortable. A lot of the time, when i sit down, it rides up, into my armpits and digs in. After a spinal appointment, the week after the accident i am told i will be wearing it well into the new year.<br />
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I am then discharged, to go home. Still in pain. Since then i have taken painkillers, every day. Every single day. At first, i took codeine, but taking them meant i couldnt go to the loo. Eventually, when i did manage to go, the pain was unbearable. So i stopped taking it. It means the pain became less manageable, but at least i could go to the loo. For the first 4 days after the accident, my hip flexors were so sore, i couldnt manage to dress myself. I had to ask my husband to help my put my underwear on, as i was unable to lift my feet more than a few centimetres off the floor.<br />
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I havent been able to work since the accident. as i told you earlier, i love my job. Unfortunately i am not able to do it, so have been signed off since you knocked me off. Partly this is because i work with magnets, and my brace is made of metal, so is magnetic. But mostly it is because i cannot sit, or stand for much longer than half an hour at a time. I havent been able to concentrate much either. I have read a total of 3 books since we met, which is just not like me. I cannot walk very far, because my back starts to hurt too much, which has meant that i havent been able to take the children to and from school. I havent been able to go out and visit people, because i cant drive either, so am mostly housebound. I am reliant on my friends and family, visiting me and looking after me. And of course, i havent been able to do my beloved sport. My friends reassure me that i will be able to again, but sometimes i have bad days when i question that. The realisation of how much i have lost came with an email, telling me i had made it through the waiting list and got a place in the last Ironman Lanzarote. Nevermind. There will be others, i am sure, although this one is special. Lanzarote is probably the toughest ironman there is. I have been to Lanzarote for the past 2 years, training on the island, and am all booked up to go in March again. Another thing that i wont be able to do properly...<br />
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Those are the dark days. The days when no one visits and i am alone all day, unable to get out. The days when people are too afraid to touch or hug me, in case they hurt me more. In case their hugs or actions may cause me to end up in a wheelchair. The days when i get cross with my children because they are boisterous and energetic and i cant do anything with them, and i am frustrated. The bad days are the ones when i hurt all day. When my back aches so much i could just cry. When it is a beautiful day and i would love to be out, riding my bike, or running in the winter landscape. When i remember that i cant. When i cant play with my kids, when i cant pick them up and dust them off if they are hurt, or crying. When i cant pull their sledges in the snow, or make snowmen with them, or have snowball fights...<br />
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And now it is nearly Christmas. We are going to Devon again. Normally i go for a run or a ride on Christmas morning, and take a swim in the sea on Boxing day. I wont be able to do that this year. I wont be able to help with the family dinner, whether it is laying the table, carrying food through or washing up, because i cant carry or stand for too long.<br />
I wont be able to take advantage of the time off work to ride my bike, and train, as i normally do. To meet with my friends on New Years Day and welcome in the new year by riding in the fresh January air.<br />
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At the moment, and i hope you will forgive me for being a bit melodramatic now, but the night we met, November 12th, you ruined my life. It will get better, but right now, you have ruined it. And you have ruined my bike. It is a write off. My lovely bike was my first road bike, and i love it. And that too is ruined.<br />
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So, I guess i can close this letter, by wishing you a very merry Christmas. I hope you can sleep at night.<br />
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Cos i cant.Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-21036423399541471862010-12-21T18:42:00.000+00:002010-12-21T18:42:33.283+00:00Bye bye beautiful puss cat.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQJb1d9r-PNrVDzMT55RkHp7D5hFtbUUiOgkDcWsX_TF2-dzSXXRA5mY0Tm6oz8YYjG0M4y_M2-3UrLiUeWAPx10FTE-fXUvT8zYfrqEfzd4WNMGiFYDf1tKLgLu1FcF9iq06bsg-vHv1l/s1600/Photo123.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQJb1d9r-PNrVDzMT55RkHp7D5hFtbUUiOgkDcWsX_TF2-dzSXXRA5mY0Tm6oz8YYjG0M4y_M2-3UrLiUeWAPx10FTE-fXUvT8zYfrqEfzd4WNMGiFYDf1tKLgLu1FcF9iq06bsg-vHv1l/s200/Photo123.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>As this is my attempt to fill in the gaps in my blog, i am working backwards...so will start with saying goodbye.<br />
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We got Tori when she was 10 weeks old. Along with her brother Oscar, she was a little bundle of fluff and claws, who was frightened and timid and spent much of her time hiding in a cupboard. Whilst Oscar was, and still is black, Tori was the most beautiful tabby cat. She was a brown tabby, with big swirls on her sides, and a long stripy tail, and a pretty face. Her fur was thick and lustrous, and she was a very lovely cat.<br />
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Admittedly, she had her problems. she didnt cope well when we got Holly a few years later. and expressed her displeasure quite clearly...mostly by leaving puddles around. But slowly, over the years she adjusted, and settled down...<br />
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She would sit on the landing, looking out the window, chattering at the birds, and would then come down the stairs, and ask to be let out the front door, only to appear 2 minutes later having walked around to the back of the house...and come in the cat flap. I think she got most of her exercise this way! She would then walk back to the front door, and request it be opened. Again.<br />
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In later years, after Holly had died, she would come indoors and come upstairs to the bedroom, and get on the bed. She would miaow for attention, and if you ignored her, she would pat you with her paw...and demand it. For much of the time, she would sleep her days away, on our bed...<br />
<br />
She was a lovely sweet cat, who was patient with the children, tolerating them and their childish affections. She rarely hunted....although she did once manage to bring a frog through the kitchen and into the hall by pushing at it until it jumped away. I dont remember her catching anything else, she was just too happy to sit and watch life go by.<br />
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<br />
In the last few months, she lost a lot of weight. Initially, this was no bad thing,,,,,as weighing in at over 11lbs at one point, the vet had advised a diet. But when she started to look thin, we took her to the vet, who diagnosed a thyroid problem. We gave her twice daily medication, but it didnt seem to be helping. Sadly, it seems that the thyroid problem masked another more serious condition, which, i am sure would have been picked up in due course, but when she went severely and suddenly downhill, it was clear that it was not going to be something from which she would recover. She came into the kitchen that last morning, a very different puss cat from the one i had said goodnight to the night before, and she asked me to help her. The last moments i spent with her were quiet and gentle. She knew the end was near, as did i, and she knew i was helping her. I sat with her, held her, and told her i loved her.<br />
<br />
She was a good cat.<br />
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<br />
We still have Oscar, who at 12 1/2, like his sister, has started to slow down. He has spent the last few days indoors with me. Hiding from the cold and the snow, but also, i suspect, feeling a bit lost without his sister's companionship. We have found him a new friend, who we will be bringing home next week, a little black and white 10 month old she cat called Calliste, who we hope he will like. And in turn, hope that she likes him. Our house seems odd with just one cat.....Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-22989560987190822312010-12-13T11:22:00.000+00:002010-12-13T11:22:28.183+00:00For simplicity sake!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.backpackersguide.co.uk/images/train-for-backpackers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="171" src="http://www.backpackersguide.co.uk/images/train-for-backpackers.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>I want to buy a train ticket. nothing too glamorous. A ticket to take me from Oxford to Birmingham, on friday. Going onto a well known ticket website, tells me i can buy a single ticket for £21. However, if i go on 2 trains, getting off at banbury and then 2 minutes later, getting on another train to birmingham, i can save £6.50. But, how do i discover this? i have to go and price through each individual step. If i wanted to buy a return ticket, the website suggests, most helpfully, that 2 singles may be cheaper, but why can i not find the same information for a single outbound journey? I am not fussy, it wont take me that long to get to my end destination, i just dont want to spend more than i have to.....I want a cheapest journey option. I can have a direct/non direct option....but i cant find an option to give me the cheapest. Is it any wonder that people dont use the train any more? I like train travel. it is fun and exciting and a bit exotic to me...probably a sign that i dont do it very much....and with the difficulty i am having this morning? it is hardly suprising!!Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-56279049491502480082010-12-13T08:45:00.000+00:002010-12-13T08:45:39.073+00:00hello dear readersIt feels like it has been a very long time since we caught up. which is a shame. As i type, i am sat up in bed, having been off work for the last 4 weeks..and not expecting to go back for another 4.....which is, suffice to say, a little tedious.....<br />
My children are going to school, or should be. In fact i believe them to be procrastinating downstairs.....wending their merry way towards the christmas holidays.....only 4 1/2 days left...poor things are worn out, and over excited. a mix which is somewhat explosive at times....<br />
The last few months have been interesting. If i was a better blogger, i would have updated at the time. Now i seem to end up with a million things to write about, dating right back to september.....which i should have blogged about, but havent. Maybe i will start with the most recent and work my way backwards...<br />
saturday just gone: Saw a new cat.<br />
Thursday last week: beautiful puss cat put to sleep :-(<br />
12th November: Knocked off my bike and broke my back.<br />
28th October: My birthday. my last one of my thirties...<br />
22nd October: Tri club dinner, and a gift of tampax<br />
September; Doula jobs :-)<br />
<br />
There we go. bear with me, as i will endeavour to detail all of these things...and probably a few in between...Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-53998118944389925422010-10-19T13:35:00.000+01:002010-10-19T13:35:00.138+01:00Shameless stealing...and a bit of mummy pride...You can skip most of it....but make sure you read the middle bit :-)<br />
<a href="http://neillcameron.blogspot.com/2010/10/neill-is-total-sell-out.html">Finn at BICS</a>Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-57938298194540617182010-10-12T12:10:00.000+01:002010-10-12T12:10:48.790+01:00The times they are a changing.The sparklers saw an illustration of an Overhead projector this morning. Apparently they asked daddy what it was.<br />
Oh god. Suddenly i feel old.<br />
But on the plus side, i have, according to the BHF website a 30 year old heart. Yay me!<br />
<br />
I signed up for a race next year, and i have 3 cross country races booked for November. Fun? Hmmmm.Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-47278800865906876842010-10-09T20:35:00.001+01:002010-10-09T20:41:04.125+01:00The secret of my success....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/1/18/The_Secret_Of_My_Success.jpg/220px-The_Secret_Of_My_Success.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/1/18/The_Secret_Of_My_Success.jpg/220px-The_Secret_Of_My_Success.jpg" width="209" /></a></div>i have got to thinking the past couple of days about success, and how we measure it. And indeed, can it be measured? i think it depends on what we are talking about. Success at work, in sport, in life......success as an individual or as a team. how do we quantify it?<br />
I havent made the tri club shortlist for improver of the year. I am a bit gutted, but can quantify my success as so much more than this.<br />
Looking across my life, i think, sometimes it is a small miracle that i have made it this far. As a depressive, sometimes just getting out of bed in the morning is a success for me, and for many others. To have made it to this point, without any major illnesses, no hospital admissions, no breaks of significant bones, no criminal record.....not too bad.;-)<br />
in 3 weeks i will be 39. what successes can i count across the years? A difficult childhood, my mum dying when i was 9.....being, like many others a somewhat tormented teen, but making it through to my twenties....being fat, then slim, then fat, then slim, then well, what am i now? Muscular and athletic. I have had my heart broken along the way, and have broken a few too......i have been a bride, a wife, and now a mother. My children are strong and healthy, happy and settled......this year alone, i have run the london marathon, taken 11 % off last years ironman time, and have had the honour of being at the births of two beautiful healthy babies.I had a good holiday, where i managed not to have a single argument, and i have lost half a stone...<br />
<br />
Is that a measure of success? since July 18th, i have felt a failure, mostly as a triathlete, but sometimes in other ways......but that has mostly been the knock on effect of my inability to train. After 50k on the bike in germany, my back seized. Since then, i have not been able to run, or ride. having gone from 15 hours a week training to nothing, i have been hell to live with. Grumpy and moody and just incredibly frustrated......<br />
<br />
The past few weeks i have been seeing a chiropractor. I was sceptical at first about whether he could help me, but in the past 2 weeks i have been able to run, 4 times, with no pain. But cycling has eluded me.Why, i am not sure. But fear is a powerful de-motivator. having felt the unbearable pain in germany 3 times since i have been back, made me too scared to ride out, even for an hour or so.<br />
<br />
but today i can measure my success in 4 simple words.<br />
<br />
i rode my bike,<br />
<br />
and it didnt hurt.<br />
<br />
(ok, that is 8! :-) )Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-11364041976531387492010-09-10T20:47:00.000+01:002010-09-10T20:47:55.390+01:00Challenge Roth. The aftermath.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiGl7C22tGfs241enNXcdHR45bz5VWp4afqFtZSMfQlUuXNZWZuNgaMb-8V4D5_hdIDdXjO46Fz35libJf4VA3jyoGhBayFzPeN6yKc96SC_6JEBr8Dm6YokLpuSQT5VaGbiqEK7ks6a3l/s1600/menchrissie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiGl7C22tGfs241enNXcdHR45bz5VWp4afqFtZSMfQlUuXNZWZuNgaMb-8V4D5_hdIDdXjO46Fz35libJf4VA3jyoGhBayFzPeN6yKc96SC_6JEBr8Dm6YokLpuSQT5VaGbiqEK7ks6a3l/s320/menchrissie.jpg" /></a></div>Well, i did it. And yes, So did Chrissie. Her time of 8.19, was a new world record by 12 minutes. She is an incredible woman.An incredible athlete...and incredibly nice! She was there, at the finish, as FT and i crossed the finish line, chatting and smiling at people, and handing out medals. I think FT fell just a little bit in love that day. He, along with the rest of us, fell, just a tiny bit under the spell of Chrissie Wellington, triple world ironman champion, MBE, and all round lovely person. And he got a medal! Chrissie, in fact gave both the children medals. And they deserve theirs, as much as i deserve mine. Mine i earnt for achieving my goal, to complete my second IM distance race. They have put up with my distance, my absence, and my grumpiness, tiredness and general grouchiness that comes along with IM training. and W deserves one too. He has supported me, helped me, listened to me moan for months. And i couldnt do it without him.<br />
<br />
So. what happened next? I crossed the finish line, and was enveloped in a huge hug, from my children, AND CW....i chatted with her, then headed off..to the athletes arena to collect my stuff. Handing the kids over to S, i collect my finishers t shirt, and head into a marquee, full of people....eating, being massaged, milling around. I can only focus on one thing. i have to get my bags. Where are my bags? I cant find them, and i dont even know where to begin looking......<br />
<br />
I approach a helpful looking chap, who, in near perfect english, asks if i need an ambulance. No, i need my bags. I am just tired, i just need to get my bags and sit down.Am i sure i dont need an ambulance? No, I am just really tired.<br />
<br />
Suddenly, it is all just too much. The tears start rolling down my cheeks, and i lose the ability to stand. I dont need an ambulance. But it is very clear that i need help. And i need it now.<br />
<br />
Now, have you been paying attention? Remember the water bottles? i have not, with the exception of a small handful of crisps, taken on any salts all day. I have been exercising, in 26 degree heat, in the blazing sun, in the wind, for nearly 15 hours, and my body has had enough.<br />
<br />
i am helped by two attendants to the medical area, where it is quickly established that i am in dire need of electrolytes. Within 10 minutes, i am hooked up to a drip of Ringers solution, with added calcium. Within half an hour, i am feeling better. At this point, i realise that W is probably worried about me. i try and find someone with a phone that works. No phone appears to work. I cant get through to him. I am starting to stress. Suddenly a motherly looking woman appears, telling me a friend of w's is outside. It is S, who has, at W's request, come looking for me. After searching the marquee, he concludes i might just be in the medics area. Within 10 minutes i am reunited with my bags, my t shirt, and, more importantly, my phone. I manage to text W. It transpires that his phone was out of credit, so was unable to accept incoming calls. By the time he realises something is up, he has added funds to the phone, and we are able to speak.<br />
<br />
After an hour, i am able to go. I find W and the sparklers fairly soon, and we return to the car. We are all tired, weary and hungry. But most of all happy. S and S have collected Ruby from T2 (thank you!) and i reluctantly relinquish my faithful, hard working (and still muddy) bike, back to the Berkshire fire service. She did me proud.<br />
<br />
Heading back to the hotel, the kids fall asleep in the back. W, bless him,carries the 2 sleepy bodies to their beds, while i make my slow, painful way upstairs. I am hungry. SO hungry. and salty, in need of a shower. Except the shower in the hotel, is a bit...crap. So, a bath is in order. Which is fine, except it is a corner bath. which means i cant lie down. So, 21 hours after i first get up, i can be found, kneeling in 6 inches of warm water. Eating. Cheese. A whole packet of cheese. God i love cheese.Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-55845279508628079562010-09-08T21:23:00.001+01:002010-09-08T21:26:02.445+01:00Challenge Roth July 18th 2010<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhzn9MZjmJ7fHwGhthCARW-KEQFNUjOSboiWPabiadHjRvxV-FkNrwsjJoz_u7J9bb7hyphenhyphencWq9fN2m5T_kBfeplydVZfOcVrCuEn8kIokEsJOwEE3nu8JYN2yCDJ6vfq_0xyb4Tdvwj3R-F/s1600/P7163227.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhzn9MZjmJ7fHwGhthCARW-KEQFNUjOSboiWPabiadHjRvxV-FkNrwsjJoz_u7J9bb7hyphenhyphencWq9fN2m5T_kBfeplydVZfOcVrCuEn8kIokEsJOwEE3nu8JYN2yCDJ6vfq_0xyb4Tdvwj3R-F/s320/P7163227.JPG" /></a></div>The finish line in an ironman is a long way from the start. The race itself is a 2.4mile swim, a 112 mile bike followed by a 26.2 mile run..or a marathon in normal language. The journey of course begins several months before, with hours and hours of training. In the dark, in the wet, in the cold, and, ever so occasionally in warm, bright sunshine. Life stops. It becomes a bit neglected. the kids get up on the weekends, and i am not there. They go to bed after school, and i am not there. They go away for the weekend, and i cant go, because of training. Everything revolves around ironman; training or recovering from training, prepearing to train, eating to replace the calories burnt, or sleeping. SLEEPING......only to get up the next day and do it all again. In amongst all that, you have to try and work, and have some kind of life. It isnt easy. My family go through a lot, just for me to pursue some crazy dream.<br />
<br />
For my family they havent just had to put up with this once. Challenge Roth was ironman number 2.....<br />
<br />
The day before IM consists of last minute panicking, racking of bikes, checking checking and rechecking your kit. For me it involves driving to the swim start, only to remember i have forgotten my helmet, so we have to go home again to get it, and then try again.My lovely bike, which had only arrived the day before was left, shrouded in plastic, with 2000 other bikes, all different, all race ready and all very much loved by their owners. My bike lives in the house. To leave it in a field is a wrench, and i have to hope that she will still be there in the morning.<br />
A supper of wild mushrooms and rice is follwed by an early bed, as my start is at 6.20 next morning.....so i will have to get up and eat at around 3am. It hardly seems worth going to bed, as my sleep is not exactly restful, but sleep i do. I get up, accompanied, somewhat bleary eyed by W. He also has a long day ahead of him...looking after the sparklers.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHDd1VXwn1MzOqGk_qK_nFvAQ8y42ZgKDux3pkzY5zvlDh8Lr3OEUS-3f7SruKuUc86L2RJOlfQ58Xyrl_77FGriEEgTZ5Rkk9XPNpKJmzPxHeVn5GsbVeVYQV54hEjAcagi9g2Hdm7tZj/s1600/IMG_3218.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHDd1VXwn1MzOqGk_qK_nFvAQ8y42ZgKDux3pkzY5zvlDh8Lr3OEUS-3f7SruKuUc86L2RJOlfQ58Xyrl_77FGriEEgTZ5Rkk9XPNpKJmzPxHeVn5GsbVeVYQV54hEjAcagi9g2Hdm7tZj/s320/IMG_3218.JPG" /></a></div>I breakfast like a king. Or like a lamb to the slaughter maybe? either well, i eat a satisfying breakfast: Yes, this ironman ate chocolate spread and peanut butter sandwiches for breakfast!!!<br />
I leave, feeling anxious, having said goodbye to W, knowing there is every chance that i wont see him, or the kids until 18 hours later. <br />
Getting to the swim start, i find myself swept along with the lithe and fit. I stick out like a sore thumb. Firstly i am considerably more chubby than many of the athletes around me, and secondly, i am distinctly more female than a lot of them. Women dont so ironman. or so it would appear. THIS one does. Having got this far, i am hopeful of a good day, even if it is a long one. The plan for the day is simple. get through it, enjoy it, and cross the line in one piece. Under 15 hours. Simple. that means losing an hour and a half from last years time. Piece of cake :-)<br />
The pros go at 6am. Chrissie Wellington has the weight of history and expectation on her shoulders. She won last year, and as the triple world IM champ, she has yet to lose an IM race. Last year she broke the world record. Will she do it again?<br />
<br />
I would like to say i swam past Chrissie. It is true. i did. except she was on the return leg of the long swim to the bridge, and i was still making my slow way through the steaming water. An hour and 35mins pass, and i am out of the water. Slightly disappointed with my time, but had already started making inroads into the time i had to lose. 5 minutes on the swim. Into the change tent, to eb confronted by a lot of german bottoms. Saggy ones. Why did they send the veterans off before us? where were the lovely young lithe athletes? Wandering round transition mostly. Through T1, and off to find Ruby, my faithful steed, and companion for potentially then next 7 1/2 hours. As we leave, i hear my name shouted, a friend from the tri club....i wave and set off.<br />
<br />
The bike is fine. Apart from my back going at 50k, a couple of hills....oh, and throwing my bottles of isotonice drink away before the first aid stop. i drank water from then on. Remember this. it becomes significant later.<br />
I look down at my speedo. I am through 70miles in 3 54. I have NEVER ridden so far in 4 hours before. It dawns on me that i could possibly do 6 15 on the bike. :Possibly. Chrissie comes past me, as i start my second lap, she flies past me, just a blur of red. I shout Go Chrissie, and carry on. Pain being the demon i carry with me always digs his heels firmly into my back. He is not letting go. My pelvis and lunbar spine are locked solid, and no amount of stretching or dropping out of the saddle will help. As the miles tick round i find myself begging for it to stop, and for the finish to come. Before i know it, it does...and i am helped from my bike. Ruby is taken away and i dont even get to pat her saddle and thank her. Again, she has done me proud.<br />
<br />
I realise that pain has taken its toll on me, so am thrilled when i realise that the 15 hour deadline is within my sight. I have taken 57mins off last years bike time. If i walk the whole marathon, again, i might just make it. But i have to get going first. Into T2, i cannot take my shoes off. I am so tired, and so, so hungry. I have never got off the bike and been so hungry before. EVER. Eventually, when it feels like i have spent a week sat in the tent i get up and start the long road ahead of me. 26.2 miles await me, in searing heat and blazing sunshine.<br />
<br />
And so it begins. The long march. My plan to run 5 minutes and walk 1 is already thrown out, as i cannot run at all. My back is so tight, i end up shuffling along. Within the first KM i see something to make my heart sing. My beautfiful children, there, by the road side with W. They have missed me at every turn until now, as my bike was faster than we all expected, so to see them now is heaven. I grab hold of the kids and dont want to let go, drawing strength and resolve from their embrace. I ask for some food, and am offered crisps. My salt levels are now so depleted that i wolf them down, and reluctantly say my goodbyes. 100yeards later i come across a small group of english girls, picnicing by the path. They shout my name, and i am again overwhelmed. I steal food from them, and carry on. Slowly, painfully the km pass. The pain demon does not like marathons. I feel him loosen his grip, and eventually i am able to lengthen my stride and run. and run. I run 200m, then walk 200m, each time, feeling that i can run again. The time, and the distance pass. I eat watermelon and banana, and wash it down with water. I eat a handful of jelly babies, from the berkshire fireman. Slowly slowly, i make my way closer to the finish, keeping an eye on the time, as it creeps ever closer to 15 hours, and the official deadline.<br />
<br />
I run, eventually, through Roth itself, and past 2 of my fellow hotel guests. They stand and shout to me, and then they too are gone. suddently i pass the 41km mark. 1km left to go. At the rate i am now running this will take me just over 7 minutes. I have less than 10 minutes to go until i am done. I am tired. I am sore, and i know i am going to make it. Not just make it. I am going to blow it apart.<br />
<br />
And so i run.<br />
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Challenge Roth 18th July 2010 14.47.12 :-)Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-57512776935680350822010-09-08T16:55:00.003+01:002010-09-11T10:16:49.973+01:00Cobwebs and dust<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.peacockshock.com/archives/dusty%20house-thumb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.peacockshock.com/archives/dusty%20house-thumb.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
My blog is looking distinctly dusty and unloved. Have I a reason for my total lack of blogging for the last.......2 months? Um.......not really. As a friend says of himself, he is always full of good intentions....<br />
<br />
Me too. Just they dont transpire to anything as useful as siting down and blogging! Still, here i am, bursting with updates...so hang on in there....this might take a while.<br />
<br />
<u>Before Roth</u><br />
Now, where shall i begin? I had a big bust up with someone in Mid July, which left me very unhappy......details are, i am afraid going to remain sketchy, but suffice to say i will probably never stick my nose into a relationship break up EVER again. My idea of caring and concerned were interpreted as interfering and nosey, and i have learnt my lesson. It was a lesson that found me in a little heap (ok, actually, quite a big heap) sobbing on the floor, the weekend before Roth......questioning EVERYTHING?<br />
NOT GOOD.After several texts and phone calls to other friends, (W and FG were away, so poor FT was left trying to console his mummy) my friends reassured me that no, i wasnt a bad person, nor was I a 'psycho lesbian wannabe bitch' (i paraphrase) and i was a good friend.<br />
<br />
But, there has been an apology, so since then, the slow repair of bridges has been occurring, and i think we will get back to where we were before. The person involved knows that i love them to bits, and that i was trying to help....but i know my place.<br />
<br />
<u>Roth</u><br />
<br />
So, you remember this Ironman thing i have been training for for months and months and months? Well, it happened on July 18th. It went well. I think :-) The journey to Roth was mostly uneventful...apart from the traffic jam on the autobahn.....which left us sweltering in the car for 3 hours, with a little girl who had been sick, and no idea of how much longer we were going to be sat still. If your sat nav tells you a 10 minute delay...it is LYING to you!<br />
<br />
But we arrive at the most darling <a href="http://www.zum-lindenwirt.de/">hotel</a> in a little village near Roth. Absolutely charming with a beautiful bedroom...although the shower was crap....and there was NO fan or air con...but apart from that it was lovely. especially as it had a cherry tree in the garden..which was covered in fruit. And we were allowed to eat it! :-) We arrive on the thursday, Race was on the Sunday, and it was lovely to meet so many others who were doing the race too....leaving a couple of days for last minute prep. and for me that involved NO training. AT ALL....<br />
<br />
I was described by someone as a recreational ironman though, which was a bit....annoying to say the least. Ironman, by its very nature is not the sort of thing you just rock up to and try to wing. It takes months of training..even for someone as sedate as me! So to then be called recreational was, i felt belittling to me and my achievements...and to all those BOTPers, who try really hard. I have a job, 2 kids, a family, hobbies OUTSIDE of triathlon......and i do my best!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj03pCk7z8W8OiTyQWamvveKsUKUl1Isu-0s-je3vWaS4Bv9GL6uocTdKbH2zd5gKFqnLstCC79wRxgTbIGet0d1j8yHf07g8ihuS_gDSzqU0lqbbZhkER0gMQiOAerwrvc5gkr-KRi4UlZ/s1600/roth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj03pCk7z8W8OiTyQWamvveKsUKUl1Isu-0s-je3vWaS4Bv9GL6uocTdKbH2zd5gKFqnLstCC79wRxgTbIGet0d1j8yHf07g8ihuS_gDSzqU0lqbbZhkER0gMQiOAerwrvc5gkr-KRi4UlZ/s320/roth.jpg" /></a></div>Anyway. Roth. WOW. This town really embraces Triathlon. Driving in, we spot banners across the road....This place really gets behind the race, as the entire town becomes a part of it. The run course even goes through the middle of the town, where townsfolk sit outside and have parties and drink beer, celebrating and supporting the 2000 plus athletes who pour through the streets. It is AMAZING to be there.<br />
The build up to the race is fine....apart from the fact that i discover it is a split transition. How did i not know this? The swim and bike start are in one place, and the bike end/run start are in another. I am such a wally! So, friday afternoon sees the four of us off in the car to find the swim start.....ah. did i mention the heat? no, obviously not. It is about 35 degrees celsius. We are melting, and i am in great fear of being able to race AT ALL, let alone in this heat.....Will my back hold out, will my nutrition plan, training, race plan come together? or will the stress of the last few days prove too much?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy8xa2GLmqprF-f_WFfuKo9tDqhnGKMcobU_zQ5TXzcAGQy4u0FxFHpz6ok34eu5rMjjuSldkBPB8_HQ-ZJnBEKXk9iNKWqBFIlIeN3zjeKp8dVfW5UNjq0z-npbRFhHdJ9U5uQkyuhUE_/s1600/ss1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy8xa2GLmqprF-f_WFfuKo9tDqhnGKMcobU_zQ5TXzcAGQy4u0FxFHpz6ok34eu5rMjjuSldkBPB8_HQ-ZJnBEKXk9iNKWqBFIlIeN3zjeKp8dVfW5UNjq0z-npbRFhHdJ9U5uQkyuhUE_/s320/ss1.jpg" /></a></div><br />
We find the swim start. It is a field. next to a canal. a very BIG canal. There in the hazy distance is a bridge. That i have to swim to. And back.Gulp.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_H6a6KYFWdMLvn1zeu66AMvlem3o9vSqU2lzj5uUiBWlVsGFOf7paCOSe7Z2xulGLIzQAhimZoOhrDQYw9gksDHQ45_8Xb_AYwC5ZfWs8Ytquu8NhZwzB6cdcXenoa7pxlDSakr7UIPqf/s1600/ss2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_H6a6KYFWdMLvn1zeu66AMvlem3o9vSqU2lzj5uUiBWlVsGFOf7paCOSe7Z2xulGLIzQAhimZoOhrDQYw9gksDHQ45_8Xb_AYwC5ZfWs8Ytquu8NhZwzB6cdcXenoa7pxlDSakr7UIPqf/s320/ss2.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Well, how hard can it be? As MC says to me on a regular basis....it is just a swim, then a bike, then a run...<br />
Or if it was easy it would be called football. Both gems that regularly fall from his mouth. Neither of which offer any comfort at this time.Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-26150503461429149862010-07-06T16:13:00.000+01:002010-07-06T16:13:44.976+01:00Its been a while.Not for any particular reason. A lot has gone on in the past couple of weeks, that i have thought, ooh, i could blog about that, and then i dont get around to it.<br />
Today though, i have been prompted by a friend, who pointed out i havent written anything for a while. So here is an entry.<br />
Am not feeling particularly perky right now. Roth is next sunday, and i have reached the point where i feel like i cant be bothered. I am a bit tired, a bit weary and just fed up. The mooncup is enjoying another outing and i feel like crap.<br />
I bloody hate tapering.Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-91633792007075006062010-06-21T20:21:00.000+01:002010-06-21T20:21:03.170+01:00Difficult conversations to have with the kids.....Sometimes you want to protect your children from the worst in this world. You try and cushion the news that is broadcast, or explain things in such a way that they understand, but arent to shocked or traumatised. Sometimes it is just too hard.<br />
Some of the tougher things i have had to explain to my children are why Michael Jackson died. Why MY mum is dead..and subsequently, what is cancer. And then when will i die.....Afghanistan has come up, as has the oil crisis in the gulf of Mexico. All difficult and challenging issues for any parent.<br />
<br />
We have had the <a href="http://somethingsparklyandstuff.blogspot.com/2010/06/bins-in-ladies-and-things.html">period conversation</a> with FG, and the mummy egg and daddy seed conversation with both of them. Our hands were forced the other day by the <a href="http://somethingsparklyandstuff.blogspot.com/2010/06/when-i-want-your-opinion.html">animal rights issue</a>, thanks to the mum at school.<br />
<br />
But what do you do when they see a news headline or news broadcast and want it explained?<br />
<br />
Tonight, FT saw the news about Jon Venables.The catchy 'Bulger Killer on Child porn Charges' headline meant i was drawn into having to explain something i never ever wanted to. How to explain to an 8 year old, the horrors perpetrated by 2 boys, only 2 years older than him? How do you begin to explain even what Venables is back in prison for now?<br />
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Somethings just cant be explained. And i wish i wasnt put in the position where i have to try.Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-35530042129512675882010-06-15T15:36:00.001+01:002010-06-15T15:51:39.043+01:00Unleashing the mummy monster.Last night my cousin told me i 'held back' on my blog. I am not quite sure what he meant...maybe he thought i hadnt put enough of me into it. Hmmmmm. we shall see.<br />
<br />
So. The tale of the veggie booklet continues. After my rant last night, i was feeling slightly calmer. A bit riled and indignant, but less blazing with fury. I enjoyed reading peoples comments on my facebook page, and was left feeling that i was right to go to school and make a complaint, and that being calm and level headed was a Good Thing.<br />
I came downstairs this morning, fixed FG's packed lunch, and noticed a very subdued FT, not eating his cereal....pushing cereal around the bowl with his spoon.When asked what was up? I was told that ' <insert child="" here="" name="" of="">X's mum told me that milk has pus in'</insert><br />
My calm exterior melted and the kraken was awakened. I went MAD. Trying to rein it in a bit, i said to him that did he really think that mummies would give milk to their babies if they thought it would harm them? Having breastfed him till 14 months, and then his sister till she was 2 1/2, i like to think i know what i am talking about....<br />
<br />
I reminded him that if he EVER wanted to know ANYTHING about food, he was to ask me. 'You werent there though mummy' he said with a sad face. I know. But i am now.<br />
<br />
And so off to school, to have words. I rode my bike round, because i was going straight to work, but i didnt put my shades on.....result being 2 great big fat tears rolling down my face when i get there, from the chill wind... I rock up and the school administrator is standing at the gate, as she does every morning, I ask to see the after school club leader. She isnt in. Can i see the Head then? All the teachers are in a meeting because Ofsted are in. DAMN! Just my luck....<br />
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She then asked, was i ok? I said no, i am RAGING..at which point the big fat tears turned into the real McCoy...I showed her the bloody booklet, and told her what had happened, and she immediately said right, come on, lets sort this.<br />
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Whilst waiting to see the school manager, i grabbed a couple of seconds to compose myself, and noticed a piece of FG's school work in the front entrance to school. About a visit from the fire brigade. Her writing is lovely, and i am very proud of her.....<br />
The administrator came out and took me into see Mrs B. It would appear they had no idea and she was as shocked and horrified as i was. Apologising perfusely she said it would be sorted, and wanted me to be absolutely sure of that. She said the school would be taking it very seriously, and that they clearly needed to review their vetting policy. She was very angry with the parent in question, and said, on several occasions that the school is not a political arena, and the mother had had no right to behave in this way. She then, very sweetly went on to say that she had only really learnt about the reality of the meat industry when she was in her late teens, and the thought of it still upset her. So she understood absolutely how enraged i was feeling, and said it was entirely justified. I demanded an apology as well, and i sincerely hope that i will get one. She and the head will have a discussion, to talk about the best way to address this with the children who may have seen it. I shall be very interested to see what is decided upon.<br />
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After a good 20 minutes, before i left, Mrs B asked me very sweetly to avoid the parent in question. if i were to bump into her in the play ground.<br />
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Of course i promised......although the temptation to shove a piece of steak tartare down her scrawny opinionated neck is sooooo tempting......Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-43957073589246700342010-06-14T18:57:00.001+01:002010-06-14T19:00:02.336+01:00When i want your opinion.....I like to think i am a fairly laid back soul. I try and adopt a fairly laissez faire attitude at home with the children, about a whole range of things. I try not to cause fights over food, tv watching, bedtime etc. I like to think the kids know when to push and when is enough. Both W and i try to have a relaxed approach to our bodies, and bodily functions....and although it is hard for me, I am better about being negative about myself, cos i dont think this is good for them to hear. I also try very hard not to demonise anything, or anyone. I figure that everyone has a right to their own opinion, and i would welcome a debate with them, if it is something i maybe dont agree with. (there are exceptions to this rule.....There is a certain 'politician' who i will have no truck with whatsoever. And would quite happily see him and his racist 'party' take a long walk off a short pier..)<br />
The one thing i really dont like is people shoving their opinion down my throats, especially when i havent asked. Still, as an adult i can tolerate even this.<br />
<br />
However, i have been made exceptionally angry tonight, by the actions of a parent, of one of the kids in FT's class. She is a strict vegetarian, which is fine. I dont eat mammals, but do eat poultry and fish. (However, i would never say to you that i think you are cruel for eating bacon....)Apparently, she came to After school club today, bringing veggie food with her, and talking to the kids about vegetarianism. If i thought she was giving information to the kids in an open and unbiased way, then i really wouldnt mind. The kids have been doing projects on healthy eating, and good vegetarianism has its place. Sadly, this parent appears to think it is ok to bring in Animal Aid <a href="http://www.animalaid.org.uk/images/pdf/booklets/youveg.pdf">leaflets</a> and give them out to our kids. I dont mind my kids being told about their diet options. However this leaflet is aimed at 'young veggies'. I suspect this means 10 plus.... It doesnt have any guidelines on it, or any warnings that it may contain graphic images or content. It innocuously features a picture of a cute happy looking piglet on the front, along with the very trendy suggestion to 'Be cool, not cruel!' On opening the leaflet, on page 3, one is confronted by a picture of a cow, shot in the head, next to a paragraph about Animal Slaughter. A very much alive pig, alongside the paragraph on Animal suffering, and further down pictures of bits of meat and animal carcasses. And all on page 3!<br />
Turning the page we go onto the suffering of farmed animals, and then how are they killed? With graphic images of animals, and language that even i find upsetting. <br />
<br />
I am a realist. I know people eat meat. I know it isnt all fluffy little lambs in meadows bedecked with buttercups, whilst chickens scratch in the earth searching for worms. I know this is not a genuine reality for every animal that may end up on the plate. Thank fully, so do my kids. We have talked about where meat comes from, although i have not gone into graphic detail about the precise nature of field to plate. They are only 6 and 8 for goodness sake. They still believe in Father Christmas.<br />
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How DARE this parent assume that she has the right to give out this material to my kids at school?<br />
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I will be having words.Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-38833753799052105412010-06-10T15:28:00.002+01:002010-06-10T15:30:11.091+01:00Water thoughts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxuB1wPG9ZoVCuzYCJnsK7emkXSFzxJfm960afI2c3eOM-f8wHPzThdHUbnSbMpYKnwMIXUvkwghxlhVDI3w44uI3B0tvOasWXCkKmyD0NKPTr5QVVZ1U9BHpDu67-qUwh6ZeG14QgfbdW/s1600/pool.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxuB1wPG9ZoVCuzYCJnsK7emkXSFzxJfm960afI2c3eOM-f8wHPzThdHUbnSbMpYKnwMIXUvkwghxlhVDI3w44uI3B0tvOasWXCkKmyD0NKPTr5QVVZ1U9BHpDu67-qUwh6ZeG14QgfbdW/s320/pool.jpg" /></a></div>I love to swim. Sometimes in the pool, and sometimes in the lake. Occasionally in the sea. It doesn't really matter that much. I am a creature born of water it would appear. However, I definately have a place that i feel more comfortable in. In the pool, that is the second lane from the changing room side. Why? I dont know. i have no idea. This morning i had to swim in a different lane. Well, i didnt, but it was a different empty lane, or one with people in. At 7am on a thursday morning, when i have had a minor ruck about putting the bin out with W (sorry love!), a lab meeting at 8.30, and a hard swim set to do...an empty lane is better. For all concerned.<br />
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So, this morning i swam in the lane but one closest to the window. This means i have to swim up the opposite side of the lane to the side i normally do. And it just didnt feel right. The water is no different, the lane ropes are the same, the only thing that is different is i am swimming with my left side closest to the lane rope, instead of my right. And i just dont like it. Like someone has taken my normal comfy swimming thing, and given it a little shove...a little nudge to the left.<br />
I still did the swim, and i made it to the lab meeting in time, but it just felt ever so slightly off kilter. I dont imagine tonight will be much better, as i am heading to the lake....which is fine and dandy, but will be wearing my replacement <a href="http://www.blueseventy.com/">Blue Seventy</a>. I sent the <a href="http://www.blueseventy.com/products/detail/helix">Helix</a> back, and will be wearing the second hand Synergie that i bought second hand on ebay. We shall see.<br />
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Talking of the normal world, but slightly off kilter, i had coffee with my lovely friend Dr L yesterday. She had some lovely good news, which is so exciting, but comes with a caveat. She is expecting identical twins....which is wonderful. But, like all twin pregnancies, not without its risks. So, instead of being delighted and happy, as she should be, she also has to reign it in, just in case. Her normal happy go lucky self is just ever so slightly tilted, shadowed with caution and fear.<br />
If you are reading this sweet girl, hang on in there.....and grab onto the lane ropes if you need some support....Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-42156510795335549982010-06-07T22:08:00.001+01:002010-06-07T22:16:20.055+01:00Scattergunning. Other wise known as spreading.I have a bit of a bad habit. This is simply allowing myself to be spread a bit thin. I am better at saying NO than i used to, but still need to remember my needs and that of my family come first. I think someone once called it volunteeritis, where you have an inability to say no to anything, and end up doing half jobs on everything, simply because you feel you cant let anyone down.<br />
Since taking up Ironman, i have learnt that this scattergun approach to life, running round leaving little bits of myself everywhere is impossible. It just cant be done. Or at least it cant be done with any semblance of dignity or satisfaction. You can please some of the people some of the time.....<br />
For the most part, the house is mostly clean and tidy, usually a bit more of the latter than the former, but it is ok. Not sure Kim and Aggie would be best pleased, but it has a long way to slide before i see them knocking at the door. We all wear clean clothes which, mostly down to W are usually crease free. There is usually something tasty on the supper table (tonights was delish,..and even better NOT made by me :-). But some things do get neglected. I was reminded of this as i brushed the sparklers teeth this evening.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg48Uz5YEywV0YfjzYtlytEOPu4ddG96yA7kHgvSBekXvxBQtrFt10c8KN2ai3mFx78CUrZIT3ihf2aRZEVv1hn1ugJdmKjZsvhkx0LORxS8XhMn36D6Bf48ADYHXBs6BIYaH6T8WUKrQgX/s1600/melivjo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg48Uz5YEywV0YfjzYtlytEOPu4ddG96yA7kHgvSBekXvxBQtrFt10c8KN2ai3mFx78CUrZIT3ihf2aRZEVv1hn1ugJdmKjZsvhkx0LORxS8XhMn36D6Bf48ADYHXBs6BIYaH6T8WUKrQgX/s200/melivjo.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>I got a text message. This, in itself is not an unusual thing! My phone is rarely from my side, and i have been known to send upwards of 1000 texts in a month. What was unusual was that it was completely unprompted and a lovely surprise. In my attempt to cover all the bases, when i am IM training, some things get neglected a bit. One of these is some of my friendships. If i have a friend who is more enthused about something than another currently, i will usually spend a little more time with that person. If someone wants to go for a bike ride i will do that. It is, i think human nature. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaei08hphL33w-VzOKacktlqA6glu912nfkwrBDOIfdlSW5eSfJxOdjuHtHOa3FUPXo5mCTNsWxnAZs1kH5BnPmxzBAn0w-jjeQKz9VcIE30mkCDIjn-iJ19FeiRHFVwbxQRRJjLsXTcRq/s1600/PC251737.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaei08hphL33w-VzOKacktlqA6glu912nfkwrBDOIfdlSW5eSfJxOdjuHtHOa3FUPXo5mCTNsWxnAZs1kH5BnPmxzBAn0w-jjeQKz9VcIE30mkCDIjn-iJ19FeiRHFVwbxQRRJjLsXTcRq/s200/PC251737.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>This means however, that i spend a lot of my time, feeling a bit like a rotten friend to the others, who i dont get to spend as much time with as i would like. So this text was a lovely surprise as it said that my friend also missed me, and that she looked forward to us spending more time together. (she also said i was a nicer person to be around this year, which i am relieved about)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheMFLSbdEZiFtkid8Ls7TCRQ3zO3cg9YyowUOxilyiH9EpgaRUYJ-NhHm7T-ja7IPmRgTpyQ8Sd4LDbkVMT1MBvnDOBz_bWaH74QFexjFCxfK2zjxoOZsQOQRRjFrBTh6LIeIp9nx5Gn4X/s1600/PA240464.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheMFLSbdEZiFtkid8Ls7TCRQ3zO3cg9YyowUOxilyiH9EpgaRUYJ-NhHm7T-ja7IPmRgTpyQ8Sd4LDbkVMT1MBvnDOBz_bWaH74QFexjFCxfK2zjxoOZsQOQRRjFrBTh6LIeIp9nx5Gn4X/s200/PA240464.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Some of my friends i have leant on in the past few years more than maybe i should have. who have done their best for me, looked out for me and stood by me, perhaps when i would have thrown up my hands in disgust. It is to them i owe a duty of care, to try and spread myself less thinly, but with more care and attention, and to stand up and say to my friends i love you guys. That having you in my life makes me a better person, and i am honoured that you want me in yours. Thank you.<br />
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(If i havent put a picture up here of you and me. It isnt because i dont love you to bits. It is probably because i dont have one......this is something i aim to remedy!)Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-3941891280446466112010-06-07T11:08:00.000+01:002010-06-07T11:08:11.720+01:00When will you make my doorbell ring?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8yOZCAUA53IVL3eJh9g6Nkak2-i2Z34D9lkKDj0VLPGOReaDoTMwF3ZlO0LebaiKY9F674uW9dfGNuxnwqqJ0wYgPaQXbmgNCcy5nH8fmRJEbOJNC-Hdp4sr2K6i2QO3GlHoXPNbHsqrD/s1600/IMG_2911.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8yOZCAUA53IVL3eJh9g6Nkak2-i2Z34D9lkKDj0VLPGOReaDoTMwF3ZlO0LebaiKY9F674uW9dfGNuxnwqqJ0wYgPaQXbmgNCcy5nH8fmRJEbOJNC-Hdp4sr2K6i2QO3GlHoXPNbHsqrD/s320/IMG_2911.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
I am waiting for the postman. Sat here at home, when i should be at work, waiting for my replacement wetsuit to come....I tore a hole in my beautiful, and very expensive Blue Seventy Helix. I am gutted. And unsure as to whether it will be replaced, repaired or just ruined forever. Have been in touch with the company i bought it from, in the hope that they can sort it. And in the meantime, i am sat at home, waiting for the postman to bring me a second hand Synergie...which is almost as good. but not quite.<br />
<br />
Sigh.<br />
<br />
Am in two minds about going into work today, or just taking the day off and going in on friday instead. Am i up for a 4 hour ride this afternoon. Hmmmmm.<br />
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Plus point: it isnt raining. Yet.But i think it is only a matter of time. On the other hand. I am knackered and dont know if i can be bothered. Am not in the right mindset today, asi was intending on going to work, but the later it gets, the less sense it makes.....Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-43594904171766119302010-06-06T16:15:00.002+01:002010-06-06T16:22:58.534+01:00There will be tears before bed time....I have been somewhat erratic about taking my tablets recently. I have been on this particular drug for quite a long time now, at quite a high dose. And i have been rubbish at taking them. It isnt that i forget, or cant be bothered, i just dont seem to remember..and i feel ok for a few days, and then start to feel rubbish again, and then remember....<br />
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Yesterday was such a high day. I love marshalling at triathlons, absorbing the feeling of high energy, anticiaption and overwhelming excitement. Helping people achieve something they never thought they could achieve, even if it is something which i do with a relative amount of ease. Surrounded by my <a href="http://www.oxfordtri.co.uk/">club mates</a>, and introducing a good mate to triathlon, before he does his first. Seeing him alive with the atmosphere was a real priviledge, and a memory i will treasure.<br />
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But today, i feel sad and flat. I should take my tablets and go and collect the new set of pills, but it feels a bit pointless right now. Which is a symptom of the disease, and not really the way i feel. I am tired and needing sleep. My beautiful children are home again, and W is coming back. All is good with the world.<br />
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But there will be tears..<br />
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and they will be mine.....:-(Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-44743626648361935212010-06-05T20:11:00.000+01:002010-06-05T20:11:22.007+01:00Overheard, whilst lying in the bath.It has been a hot and tiring day. Lying in a cool bath, with bubbles popping gently on my skin.......the window is open, and i hear voices from the garden behind.<br />
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Billy.<br />
Billy! Stop feeding your brother to the dog. You know how it upsets his bowels.<br />
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At least. I think that is what she said. Maybe i had soap in my ears at the time.Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-51282800584319933202010-06-04T17:27:00.001+01:002010-06-04T17:50:28.086+01:00Bins in the ladies and thingsIt is very quiet at Maison Sparkly. The small sparklers are staying with their Nanna and Danna, in Devon. Thank god for grandparents! They are due back on sunday....and i await, with bated breathe, to hear which crisis has been narrowly avoided.<br />
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This time last year, i got a somewhat frantic phone call from Nanna...after she had been <i>forced to tell </i> FG what the bin in the ladies toilet was for.....Previously, she had asked me about the paper bags, but i guess she figured she would test Nanna this time. Being a mother to 4 boys, i am guessing that Nanna had never found herself in this situation before. After trying to bat FG off with some feeble answer, which was roundly rejected..she had to explain about...shhhhhhh....<i>periods</i>. Fortunately the sparklers had already been briefed on mummy egg and daddy seed, so when poor Nanna got to the end of her long explaination, FG's response was, oh, ok then. Am somewhat worried that having spent a week sharing a bedroom with her rapidly devoloping brother, FG is going to come home, asking about masturbation. Wonder if i can leave that one for Danna. Or daddy ;-)<br />
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I have missed them. We took them to devon on sunday, and on monday spent the morning on the beach. We had found somewhat randomly, cheap wetsuits in Leigh Delamere services. (2 questions. Firstly, who names these bloody places? and 2, who decides what they sell, because it is wierd! Wetsuits, garden chairs and giant cuddly dogs seem to be the order of the day!), So once on the beach, after i had disappeared into the churning water, surrounded by surfers, ( Do you have any idea how far you have to swim in North Devon to find a patch of sea without surfers in? It is quite a long way. But diving into the waves that they are trying to catch is awesome!) the sparklers both managed to convince daddy that wakeboards were the order of the day. (I called them surfboards, but was thoroughly chastised!)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPTtgT2OgR9BXfbKTgeVKN3r_qKhyhrajjcxtVeiwr-IHSIWt3GPY6Fqt4dsVHnBLy8WnE0hoHntUWp1hsCYNMTaG7ULjS-eQwpxUpU67iJ5ZbkogZ8EyRokfqVguL8P0yn9Ls8bcFz8kE/s1600/P5312975.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPTtgT2OgR9BXfbKTgeVKN3r_qKhyhrajjcxtVeiwr-IHSIWt3GPY6Fqt4dsVHnBLy8WnE0hoHntUWp1hsCYNMTaG7ULjS-eQwpxUpU67iJ5ZbkogZ8EyRokfqVguL8P0yn9Ls8bcFz8kE/s320/P5312975.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>So, i emerge from the sea, to find two small and very happy kids.........if not a little cold!<br />
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Since we have been home, we have been so busy. I am not actually sure we can find time for the two sparklers to come home! Tuesday i saw the most adorable wee girl, N, who was born on 10th May. After a tense few weeks for her mummy and daddy, she is home. And i spent two hours cuddling her. I dont want anymore kids, but just occasionally, i feel a pang, when i smell their lovely milky smell and hold their tiny hands.<br />
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Wednesday we saw <a href="http://ironmanmovie.marvel.com/">Ironman 2</a>. This is what most people think you are talking about when you mention <a href="http://ironman.com/">Ironman.</a> I consider it my duty to reeducate the world :-)<br />
And then we had pizza. Oh boy, was it yummy. and i had too much wine. Well, it doesnt hurt now and again.<br />
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But i MUST stop telling the kids that wine makes mummy clever. They both know perfectly well it makes mummy snore. And fall asleep on the sofa. Sigh. My secrets are out.<br />
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Last night was a lovely ride/swim/ride combo. Which would have been great. Apart from the 4 inch gash i now have in my wetsuit. I am hoping the nice people at <a href="http://www.blueseventy.com/">BlueSeventy</a> will pity me and change it for a new one,. If they dont..i can knock any plans for an ereader on the head!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://leeds.diarystar.co.uk/images/red-kite.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="187" src="http://leeds.diarystar.co.uk/images/red-kite.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
And then today. Nearly 50 miles on the bike, followed by a run, in beautiful sunshine, through rolling countryside, with an aerial display by a Red Kite. STUNNING! I nearly gave myself a crick in the neck watching it, but then, that would have countered the ache i had from riding on the aerobars i suppose.<br />
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And now. As i sit, there is a strange piece of plastic, or rather, according to the literature, medical grade silicon, boiling on the stove. I have bought a <a href="http://www.mooncup.co.uk/">mooncup</a>. Which will confuse FG even more. I want to be there when she asks Nanna about this one :-)Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-69739402855453943482010-05-25T09:50:00.000+01:002010-05-25T09:50:50.725+01:00You only get one shot so make it countI am not, by an large, a fan of manufactured pop. However, this line, from manufactured pop band JLS, struck me as appropriate.<br />
On Sunday morning, i sat in the garden, with a friend D, putting the world to rights. She drank water, and i drank tea. Lots of it. The subject of Ironman came up. And i began to try and explain why i do it. In much the same way as mountain climbers feel a need to climb the biggest, hardest or most challenging peaks, i guess the answer comes down to because i can. Because it is there. Because life is too short for dull underwear. Because, just occasionally, something happens that turns your world upside down, and you might never get this moment again. Every day is a day to celebrate being alive. For me, it is a day that i feel i have to make the most of, for my sake and that of my mum. She didn't get the chances that i have. So i push and push. I make my body do stuff it doesn't want to. I make my mind twist and turn inside out. Because sometimes it feels that to settle for anything less is cheating. My sister said to be life is too short to be miserable. She is of course, absolutely right. Do i push my body to its physical limits, and my mind till it hurts as a mask for being miserable? Who knows.<br />
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A tri mate of mine, TW, died doing a race on Sunday. Pushing his body to the limits, it just couldn't take any more. As triathletes, we accept a degree of danger, when we ride and train. Acknowledging the fact that we might have an accident whilst riding our bikes. But we don't expect our bodies to just give up on us. But sometimes, i guess we can only push so far, so hard and so fast for so long. I came home from work yesterday and decided i needed to ride. Hard. So i pushed myself on the bike. i was doing 27mph on the flat at one point. Which is nothing for some people, but is getting on for nearly double my normal average pace. I felt it was a fitting tribute to TW. To make the most of the moment; the evening sunshine; being fit and being alive. I sincerely hope he would have approved.Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2300425249097939555.post-17140585931937434342010-05-19T16:02:00.000+01:002010-05-19T16:02:53.645+01:00would it be cheating...to add one more? Not a self portrait, but one taken by W, of me and the sparklers. Again, last year on holiday. We were in a relatively posh restaurant, being treated by the grand folk. The kids are at the age where certain things are funny. Farts? Of course. Burps? quite possibly...and now....Bunny Ears.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQHBOSkyVntG-hLTKVKstrcYqkn6G0_gVjTb54Av8FVZsHehhvHIvwZqztthz8kpP5GGctD43AYfZsgVEXHShOLd0Rv7vv3h1WH36sTaXW6bn9ClUCacUNALgn0G8Fi3jbueRU3pm8D_aB/s1600/ears1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQHBOSkyVntG-hLTKVKstrcYqkn6G0_gVjTb54Av8FVZsHehhvHIvwZqztthz8kpP5GGctD43AYfZsgVEXHShOLd0Rv7vv3h1WH36sTaXW6bn9ClUCacUNALgn0G8Fi3jbueRU3pm8D_aB/s320/ears1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7uiXJNMao6-fH0o5JzxcNMZtr6QnRzRluwWFeqQ2esctiPb_FCwsuglEhLbaUlbXR_FVYaSFoWb_pzdOMINEbw0nEzg6be5Cfml_6YpVPmd3PRb1_ig3EeVT9q7in3JRMldQYk7GsixAk/s1600/ears.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7uiXJNMao6-fH0o5JzxcNMZtr6QnRzRluwWFeqQ2esctiPb_FCwsuglEhLbaUlbXR_FVYaSFoWb_pzdOMINEbw0nEzg6be5Cfml_6YpVPmd3PRb1_ig3EeVT9q7in3JRMldQYk7GsixAk/s320/ears.jpg" width="320" /></a>Half of team FChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15162243799706867286noreply@blogger.com1