What I did on the weekend

It didn't snow...! So an ace training weekend was had.

When I say ace it is all relative. It means I came out the other side wiser and with minimal injury. It was still hard as hell.

For example on Saturday I went riding with a local from Team Glow. At this point of my cycling career this is like saying I went riding with one of the lovable rascals of the 1960s Tour de France. A bunch of friends who are a good laugh, fuelled on foreign liquor, innocent looking but wow, can this lot cycle.

I had not gone two miles with them - remember two Mossley miles is straight up in the air - and I wanted to bail. I knew where I was and home was so close. I knew I was exhausted physically, I could feel it, I'd only had a rest period of 12 hours rather than a rest day for the last fortnight. Emotionally things were taking their toll too - Jon and I were doing a dance around 'the bloody Ironman' and I felt obliged to be a domestic goddess during the week while doing double training sessions so my weekend collapse would be forgiveable  We'd almost got the balance right and for once I wanted to stay home and just hang with him and tackle our domestic live together in person rather than emails and notes...

So I pulled up at the end of a series of short and sharp climbs with an excuse to leave the group in my throat...but the smiles of these girls are infectious and they actually looked like they were enjoying themselves. I had a feeling they would talk me from departing like a Samaritan talking down a jumper. I ended up trapped beneath the blue sky the snow bank, and the spinning lycra and wheels of the Bad Girls peleton..

We descended Cragg Vale - not that scary actually - and ascended it too - not half as bad as a Mossley climb. We baked on short sharp climbs and I had to walk one series of hamstring-popping ascents. A big fail and my first ever walk. It was so tough I didn't even lose that much speed walking - just pride!

On the moors before Denshaw i knew only nine miles remained. And yet still I wanted to call Jon to collect me. I don't work well when I can see the road winding up into the distance ahead of me.

Some how I made it home. I meant to run after but it was much late than I thought. I had also not taken on any fuel for the last three hours and had a spectacular meltdown in the kitchen trying to get food into me.

Cue lots of rest overnight, a 1am toast making episode, several breakfasts and we were taking the start line at Blackpool half marathon. Jon had checked the weather last week so we were dressed for a different day but actually cut a fine pair racing down the prom in summer gear past ice rinks, pleasure beaches with no sand, water parks and hotels advertising a heated swimming poo (sic) before gloriously finishing in 1:54. Dead chuffed as it didn't feel hard, we both came back in one piece, chatted and had fun and worked as an awesome team. My only issue was I was still starving from the day before and as I write this Monday morning, I still am!