Facing the Truth I have started this blog about 15 times in the last few days. Crossed out lines, ripped out pages, thrown a few pens across the room
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It’s not your foot To those of you who read what used to be regular updates, you’ve probably figured I’ve done something to myself. No racing, no reports… and
Diggin’ Deauville Half-fuelled by a water-logged Starbucks coffee, I am nursing a very sore foot as my mind wanders back to the International Triathlon in Deauville a few weeks
70.3 Rapperswil Unbelievably, in all my years as a Swiss triathlete I had never made it 70.3 Rapperswil. I wanted to make sure I ticked that box this year
Ventouxman Having done Aix and Bilbao back-to-back, I had two weeks to recover and cram in some training before tackling the tough Ventouxman, a race I particularly wanted to
Bilbao triathlon They say time goes quicker as you get older. If that is true then I sure as hell don’t want to be 60: I’m half that and
70.3 Pays d’Aix For once I don’t particularly want to write. I’m tired, my fingers are struggling across the keyboard and I don’t know how to make yet another
Cruising in Cannes Very silly way to start a blog. Not only does it sound pompous but whatever I did in Cannes, it certainly wasn’t cruising. Then again, “cruising” is
Picnic racing The price of satisfaction Tucked neatly into my aero position, I reached down for the bottle of nutrition I had prepared the night before and took a
Hell of the West “Morning! Excuse me?!” It was 3.30am, pitch black and I was standing outside the only lit, open doorway in the street, peering beyond the front