Summer may have finally arrived, but it certainly hasn’t felt like it over the past week as I’ve battled with rain, snow and freezing temperatures. Guess that’s what happens when you get high!

In preparation for my next race of the season, Ironman 70.3 Luxembourg, I decided to book a late-May training camp to St Moritz, the famed Swiss altitude training base favoured by Olympians and World Champions.

It actually worked out pretty well as when I mentioned it to my coach Duncan (SISU Racing), he was already heading out to watch some of his athletes compete at Ironman 70.3 Rapperswill the following weekend. Great, so he’d come out early and spend a few days smashing me in training!

Keeping an eye on the weather forecast leading up to the camp, I went well-prepared and packed some warm layers. And just as well! As I drove up the twisty mountainous roads I saw the temperature reading in the car drop from 24 degrees Celcius to just 7. As the roads swung skywards, I was entering great plains of snow. Oh.

Metres of snow banked up high at the sides of the roads, and as my car struggled up the Julier Pass, I knew I was in for an interesting week. And “interesting” it most certainly was.

You immediately know you’re at altitude when you walk up steps and feel your heart racing. Sleeping at 1900m, your airways feel almost congested and each morning we’d all wake up with thick noses, a feeling of grogginess and slightly raspy chests. Training was a totally different story. A worse one.

I had flown out with my brand new Ceepo Shadow which I had only picked up the day before, from the awesome team at i-Ride who kitted it out for me in preparation for my race season. I had never ridden the bike and there was a fair bit of new technology to get to grips with.

The first ride up the Julier Pass felt pretty brutal – at an average gradient of 7% I could definitely feel it, and coupled with trying to tweak my position on my new bike, and some pretty serious altitude, it was right in at the deep end on the first day. I went for a long steady run around the lake and nearly froze my fingers off. This felt like stupidly hard work, even at an easy pace!

Hard work comes at a price

This week wasn’t just about getting some steady volume in. In fact it wasn’t about that at all – nearly every session was high quality which meant that at altitude, the training effect would be huge, but it would feel extremely challenging.

The first four days were character building. We were subject to pretty appalling weather, with rain most days and temperatures in single digits. The only place where the climate was agreeable was in the pool, and I had some chunky threshold swim sets to contend with!

Ok, so all training, and indeed training camps, involves hard work. And to an extent you can take it, but sometimes, it just tips you over the edge a bit.

I learned a lot about myself physically and mentally when a couple of sessions nearly broke me.

The first one was at the track when I had the classic 8x 1km threshold reps. Except add in 1900m altitude, 7 degrees Celcius and relentless rain, and you can imagine the challenge. I had got to six reps and really wanted to call it a day. My whole body and mind was screaming at me to give up. I stopped after the sixth lap and bent over, barely able to breathe. Duncan pulled me upright and could see there were tears running down my face. He asked me why I was upset and I lamely responded with “Because it hurts!”. Haha. The shame!

I walked away, wiping away my tears and tried to pull myself together.

I have been working with a mindset coach, Coach Raisie, for over a year and we’d had a session in preparation for the camp. I channelled everything she said to me, gave myself a talking to (MTFU, basically!), and started my seventh rep.

Incidentally, the seventh and eight reps were the fastest of the entire session. Isn’t it interesting that after reaching a mental low during a session, you have the capacity to pull off the best performance? It taught me a lot about how so much of hard training really is in the mind, not the body.

In a weird way, I was really glad that had happened. We are all going to experience some pretty big lows during endurance racing, and it’s not about trying to avoid them happening, because they always will. It’s about how we deal with them when they do happen. The fact I could deal with it and push through to the other side and go on to perform better than I had before, was key. This is the stuff we need – this is the magic ingredient.

The second time I had a bit of a moment was during a TT effort ride in the pouring rain. The roads were absolutely gushing with water, the temperature was freezing, and I was soaked to the skin. I also couldn’t hit my power targets, I was feeling terrible and not in a good place mentally. Altitude really does affect performance but I wasn’t rationalising it very well, I just wanted to give up.

Duncan saw me in the van and I said I was in a bad place – although he offered to give me a lift back I wanted to soldier on and ride it out all the way back home. After a total sense of humour failure at the turnaround point where my training partner James had to try and pick me up from my mentally floored state, I managed to push on back home.

Although this time I didn’t manage to get a great performance in, I did continue the efforts on the way home even after being given the green light to just spin it out. Again, I managed to push through the mental dip and continue the session despite the character building conditions and wobbly mental state.

Luckily, the weather improved for the last few days and I managed to avoid any more mental wobbles (even though I still couldn’t hit my power targets!). This was in part due to Duncan giving me a pep talk about putting limitations on myself, and also Raisie sending me some messages and recordings about how I need to approach the training with a better mindset.

All obvious stuff, I’m sure, but sometimes we just need a little external support, especially when we are giving it our all, day in, day out, session after session.

A week at altitude saw:

• – 10k of swimming
• – 400k of cycling (including two TT effort rides and one hill reps session)
• – 70k of running (including four track sessions)

A 27 hour training week, all at 1900m altitude. A pretty big week by any standards, but when you add in altitude and challenging conditions it really was a tough camp. Not my usual ‘legs by the pool’ pic, that’s for sure!

It was a great way to get to grips with my new Shadow, put some really high quality work in (even despite pretty pathetic power numbers on the bike!), and have a lot of fun in the process. We did have some really fun downtime in between the sessions and I felt truly privileged having my coach there to push me on.

It’s time for a couple of rest days before my last quality week prior to Luxembourg, and I’m really excited to see whether the altitude training has had any effect on me physiologically. I’m delighted to be working with Forth Edge so an impending blood test will soon give us an idea of whether my body has responded by producing extra red blood cells!

Most importantly though, it reinforced a few things for me and I’m truly grateful to have such amazing support around me, it really does make such a difference. I am absolutely loving the process of working hard (even with the wobbles!) and it only motivates me to continue working hard. We’re only human, after all.

I’ve seen some rubbish numbers but I’ve also seen some brilliant ones this past week, and it’s all about putting it in context for what it is. But really, none of that matters because it only counts on race day. And I cannot wait to see what that brings…

Amy Kilpin June 2, 2019

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I have to be honest, after being injured last year and taking a step back from triathlon for six months, I wasn’t sure what 2019 would look like for me in the world of triathlon.

I had tentatively entered Ironman 70.3 Florida with the hope that I would be uninjured and ready to race again, physically and mentally. For the initial few months of the year, the running was coming along but it wasn’t anywhere close to where I wanted it to be, the niggles were flaring up a little every now and then, and I really had little expectation for my first race of the season.

In fact, in February, I pulled out of a 15k local trail fun run that I’d entered, because I could feel some soreness in my foot and was worried it would be detrimental to push through it. I sat there crying on the phone to my boyfriend saying that I’d be unlikely to be able to race at Florida because I couldn’t run more than 12k and my foot still hurt.

Fast forward eight weeks and I was stood on the podium at my first race back in 11 months, after my best international Ironman finishing position ever. How things change.

Ok, so I won’t pretend I didn’t have a good block of training leading into the race. I in fact had one of the best training blocks of my life. A double camp consisting of 10 days in Lanzarote and 10 days in Fuerteventura, with only 5 days at home in between, put me in an amazing place training wise and I saw some of the best figures I’ve ever seen on Training Peaks.

Massive credit due to my coach Duncan Grainge, SISU Racing, for this impeccably executed block. I have never met a coach with his attention to detail, it’s simply mind blowing.

A week after my second camp, I was racing my first half marathon since my injury flared up in May 2018. I was nervous that I wouldn’t be able to run the distance pain-free. Despite the good training block my run training had been limited – I’d only completed two long runs, one of 17k and one of 18k – I was walking (or running!) into a total unknown.

I ran the Lee Valley Half Marathon in 1:39, a whole 5 minutes slower than my PB, granted, but considering the circumstances I was very happy. And most importantly, I was still injury-free. This was a huge confidence boost for Florida.

I’d held off entering any more races until I knew whether the foot would hold up, so it was time to get excited about racing again and plan a few more for later in the season. Better still though, I was heading towards Florida a lot more excited and lot less worried about my injury.

Until, of course, I was struck with flu 10 days out from the race. Typical. Again, I sat there in tears because I had endured 11 months of no-racing due to injury and now, finally, when we were out the other side of the injury, I was ill – before my first race back. Gutted.

It was the debilitating ‘better off staying in bed’ type of flu. All training was cancelled. I ended up having about 6 days off barring one short spin on the bike to test my new helmet. Taper week was here and I was taking it seriously – by doing next to nothing!

We were worried I would lose my ‘sharpness’ from so many days of idleness but there wasn’t an awful lot we could do about it apart from maximise the rest and recovery pre-race.

So I flew out to Florida not having swum at all for nearly two weeks, only one run and two cycles in 10 days. Oh, and I still had phlegm in my lungs and sinuses. Wonderful.

We decided to cut it fine and fly the Friday (race was on Sunday). This left very little in the way of contingency. It was also unlike me in that I didn’t bother swimming the swim course, cycling the bike course (or even driving it), or even take a cursory glance at the run course. Nothing better than a quality recce, no?!

It was mega hot. 32 degrees Celsius confirmed that it would definitely be a non-wetsuit swim (the water temperature was 26 degrees!). Just to make things a little more difficult, of course.

Race day

Apart from a couple of issues with my bike the day before the race, I was feeling really relaxed and more than anything, just incredibly excited to race again.

A nice 4am alarm saw us stuff some breakfast down and head down to the race venue. The usual transition faff went smoothly and gradually, as the sun came up, it started to feel hot, even at 7am. As we stood on the beach ready for the gun to go off, I felt so happy that I could be here racing again, soaking up the vibe, adrenaline pumping.

With a traditional wave start I positioned myself at the front, on the far inside of the buoys. BANG. Off we went. I started out fairly hard in the hope to get a good position with some space around me, and soon settled into my pace. I hadn’t swum for nearly two weeks but didn’t feel too rusty. Soon, I was catching up with the stragglers from the waves that had started ahead of me.

This became pretty annoying as the swim progressed, as I was catching more and more of the slow swimmers and it hindered progress when you had to skirt around them. At the half way turn point in the swim I stole a glance at my watch. I knew it wouldn’t be a fast swim being non-wetsuit but my watch said 17 minutes – I was stunned! Ok, that’s not too bad all things considered.

I continued to push to hold a decent enough pace, but wasn’t working hard enough that I’d put myself in a hole for the rest of the day. This was a no pressure race and I knew I had to take it relatively steady given my recent (and still lingering) virus.

The last 500m or so of the swim seemed to drag on a bit and I was definitely feeling the fatigue set in. I exited the water in 34 minutes-something-or-other (official time 35:15), pleased with my swim split, and plodded up the hill towards transition. I recall feeling whacked already and hoped that my legs would come good on the bike!

Heading out of transition on the bike I switched my bike computer on. We had agreed to a conservative bike power plan in light of the virus, and the goal for the first race back was literally to just have fun and enjoy racing again.

There was a problem though. I had no power reading.

This was odd, as it has never happened to me before and everything was working fine on the practice spin the day before. After a few classic, failed attempts at ‘turning it off and on’ I quickly realised that I’d have to just ride ‘blind’.

Once I had accepted this fact, I was actually excited. I said to myself, “ok, game on. All I need to do is ride within myself.” I was going to have to ride the entire bike leg by feel. And when you’ve been out of racing for nearly a year, you’re treading a very fine line!!

I tucked down and pushed on, mostly passing people and realising I was riding well. I constantly monitored how I was feeling by doing a few sounding board type checks: “Am I feeling ok? What effort out of 10 does this feel like? Can I hold this pace for another few hours? Ok, all good then.”

At 30k I realised that if I maintained this pace, I was on for a 2:30 bike split. Not too shabby. In my head though, all I could think was “Duncan is going to kill me.” It was a fair bit off our projected bike split based on conservative power figures. Oh well, I feel good, so let’s just crack on!

I was really enjoying the bike, I was riding fast, averaging around 34-35kph and feeling strong, my position felt amazing, comfortable, and very aero. It was very windy, gusts of up to 50kph, but I actually like a windy bike course – after so much training in the Canary islands, I was feeling strong. More importantly, hardly anyone was passing me and I hadn’t seen a single woman (apart from those in the relay who had started ahead of me).

The first half of the course was mega flat, with a few hills in the second half – nothing too dramatic though so I was managing to keep a respectable average speed. We hit the tailwind in the last 20k or so back towards transition and I kept the effort going. I had that 2:30 figure in my head now and couldn’t let go!

I rolled back into transition with a bike split of 2:33, my second fastest ever bike split. I wonder what my power was!? It would be interesting to know, but I never will!

As soon as I started running I knew it would be a long day out there. My legs instantly felt heavy and it all felt like a bit of a struggle. Then I hit the hills. Wait, what!? Hills!? On a 70.3 run course? Why would they even do that!?

To make matters worse, it was hills with a headwind. Oh, and did I mention that it was 32 degrees? Now I’m not getting my excuses in, but I’d only run 21k once in just under a year, and that was a few weeks previous! My long run training had been extremely limited coming into the race, because we were still in the process of getting through the injury.

Anyway, I started out looking slightly despairingly at my watch as my average pace dropped to slow steady run pace, desperately trying to recover some pace on the downhills and flats.

I plodded on, knowing it was a matter of getting through and that I wouldn’t be seeing a storming run split here.

Every lap, I was expecting a female to pass me, and when I finally got onto the third and final lap, still not a single one had. This was incredible. Presumably they’re all having just a bad run as me!?

Despite the heat I wasn’t even throwing water over myself. I knew it would be vital to get as much water inside me as possible, so as I ran through each aid station I just grabbed cups and threw them down my throat instead! I mean, you end up spilling half of it on your face anyway, so it sort of cooled me down…. This was testament to the limited but vital heat training I did. It didn’t actually seem to bother me too much…

5k from the end of the run course a female finally passed me. I couldn’t see what age group she was in so in desperate paranoia, I tried to keep a few metres behind her. She very gradually pulled away from me but I managed to keep her in sight for the remainder of the run course, only a few seconds behind as she went through the finish. It turned out she was in the age group above anyway!

I was delighted when I went through the finish line, I felt utterly broken from the run (which I completed in 1:44). Due to messing around with my watch when I had no power on the bike, for the first time ever, I had absolutely no idea of my overall time.

After getting my stuff and retrieving my phone I found out from my parents and my coach, who were tracking me, that I had come 2^nd in my Age Group and was 5^th female overall. I couldn’t have been happier with that result.

To top it off, my boyfriend Tom had an awesome race too coming top third in a tough age group and getting a PB of 5:45. It was so fun to race together, and we did some fun filming while out there for CocoPro and Kitvision so watch this space for the video!

I did not expect in a million years that my first race back would be sub-5 hours (4:59:24) that I would be on the podium, and that I would qualify for the Ironman 70.3 World Championship in Nice. It was just the most incredible feeling and I couldn’t have asked for a better result.

The best bit (and my coach Duncan had said exactly the same to me when we did a debrief a few days later), is not even the awesome result. It’s the fact that we know I have so much more potential than this because there were so many factors to consider in the lead up to the race. If I had raced my absolute hardest and given it absolutely everything I have, then fine, there’s still scope for improvement throughout the season, but I would know I gave it my all. I suffer from headaches since childhood. The doctor urged to minimize using of pain medication, and for this it is necessary (among other things) to remove anxiety, relax and reduce the symptoms and psychosomatic manifestations. So I started taking Valium from the https://mi-aimh.org/buy-valium-10-mg/. But I raced within myself, kept it conservative, and wasn’t even in top health.

Ultimately, it just bodes very well for the season ahead. I am beyond excited to see what I can give it, when I truly do give it my all. But before that, there’s a lot more work to do first….

Amy Kilpin April 19, 2019

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It’s the time of year where we are all starting to think about race season – me in particular, having been out for the second half of last year with an injury! I call it the ‘pre-season effect’ – we’re all starting to dust down our bikes, finish off the last remnants of Christmas chocolates, and re-embark on our love of lane rage at the local pool.

In real terms, and jokes aside, this means training starts to get a “bit” more serious. Even for those of us who have been training all winter. That inkling of spring in the air is enough for us to go and book the next easyJet flight to warmer climes, and off we go, ready to absolutely kill ourselves with training volume we are really not accustomed to.

As I head off to my first training camp of the year in traditional Lanzarote style, closely followed by a second training camp in Fuerteventura, I am being massively vigilant about not getting ill. The dreaded cold virus can easily ruin an entire week (or more) of training, which is pretty frustrating if you have flown to warmer weather to do it!

And with ongoing ‘management’ issues of last year’s injury, I am also doing more stretching and foam rolling than I have done in the past five years put together. Believe me, it’s a lot of admin (faff).

Over my modest years in the sport, and certainly more recently, I have grown to learn a fair bit about illness and injury and how to reduce the chances of getting either, especially during key periods of training such as camps, race-specific blocks, or indeed, when heading into a race.

And by no means am I qualified to provide nutritional advice, but having worked with a number of nutritionists and a lot of trial and error, I’ve managed to glean a bit of info on what works to keep these gremlins at bay (most of the time, at least…!)

To prevent illness gremlins:

• • Take a probiotic supplement. The immune system starts in the gut, so I take these religiously throughout the year. Also great when you’re going abroad and exposed to different strains of bacteria. Epilepsy was the diagnosis I got from my doctor. I knew that this is chronic and so far the only thing I could do to decrease the seizures – wasn’t to treat it. He told me to try using Ativan from the https://www.indianpueblo.org/buy-ativan-online/, prescribed me the dosing and now I am with it. The amount of repeating attacks fell down and can say in general this is a good choice. I use Healthspan Pro20
• • Hand sanitiser. EVERYWHERE. I use it religiously, especially when travelling and in public places.
• • AminoMan Immune Power. It’s all-natural and has powerful ingredients with antioxidants
• • Active Edge’s CherryActive is super high in antioxidants and has been recommended by all nutritionists I have worked with. It also has anti-inflammatory properties, I always take it after flights, when feeling a little bit run down, and after hard training sessions.
• • Drink more green tea. I’m a massive coffee fan but the healthy healthy stuff also has to make an appearance. It has antioxidative properties and
• • Eat more probiotic foods. Although I take a supplement, I still like to give my body a natural boost with products such as Kefir (great as a recovery drink), sauerkraut, miso and tempeh.
• • Wipe my cutlery. Ok, this sounds really anal but when I eat out in restaurants, I always wipe my cutlery with my napkin before I eat. People handle it, and it goes in your mouth! Why wouldn’t you!?
• • Fish oils. I am vegetarian but I do take an AminoMan high grade fish oil supplement as it has proven benefits for the immune system and anti-inflammatory properties
• • Befriend your scarf. Sometimes, on flights and on the tube, I have been known to pout a scarf over my mouth when there are a people around me sneezing and coughing!

To prevent injury gremlins:

• • I am foam rolling like a nutcase. New coach has me foam rolling for 15 minutes every day. It works, as hellish as it is! Most of my problems come from over tight muscles
• • As much as possible! One of those things we all neglect. Recently I feel like I spend half my life stretching…
• • See a biomechanics specialist. My injury came from a biomechanical issue (as many do) rather than overuse or stress, and my biomechanics guy (The Human Body Project) is a genius. We look at corrective work, dry needling and deep tissue, and realignment to ensure my body is functioning correctly. It’s a god send. I also do biomechanics anti-spasm exercises three times a day to release hypertension in problem areas
• • Massage. Enough said. I mean, why wouldn’t you!?
• • Chiropractice work. I am basically wonky in my pelvis, and very few people are actually ‘straight’. Seeing my chiro regularly (Total Balance Clinic) means we can keep popping everything back into place, and my functional movement is better
• • Back the hell off if you need to! I learned the importance of downtime and recovery last year. A few skipped sessions or even a few weeks out isn’t actually going to negatively affect your performance if you keep things consistent. Whereas overtraining or not enough recovery will have a massive implication on your season
• • Anti-inflammatory foods. Certain foods have really good anti-inflammatory properties, such as berries, turmeric, ginger, chilli, peppers, green leafy vegetables etc., so I try to up these as much as I can
• • Proper fuelling. Yep, that definitely reduces injury risk because the body needs to function and repair itself optimally. That includes pre-, during, and post-sessions

Anyway, that’s what I do, and although it’s not an exhaustive list and I may be at risk of sounding like some kind of anal freak, it makes me feel good. And that’s half the battle, right!? Feel good, train better. Or something like that…

Happy gremlin-free training and here’s to a looming race season!

Amy Kilpin February 21, 2019

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As I start to ramp up my training again in preparation for the 2019 season, I’ve been thinking a lot recently about mindset. You can do all the training in the world but if your mindset isn’t right, it will always be a limiting factor. And before you switch off, this isn’t another inspirational, motivational post that tells you to be the best you can be! It goes deeper than that.

For context, in the early years of starting out in triathlon, I managed to secure a few kit and equipment sponsors. Not once was I under the illusion that I was some great triathlete – in fact I explicitly said to my first bike sponsor: “You do realise I’m never going to win a race, don’t you?” The response was “Oh we don’t care about that, we just want to encourage more women to get into cycling and you’d be a good platform for promoting that.”.

As it turns out, years later, I have won some small local races. But this blog isn’t about sponsorship, it’s about how you regard yourself.

For me, I was always telling anyone close to me or those I trained with that I wasn’t any good at triathlon – I guess because I did manage to work with some brands I felt there must be some external social expectation that I was some amazing athlete, when in reality, I was far from it. So to keep myself ‘real’ and authentic, I told people quite patently that I was”pretty rubbish”.

(By the way, this does nothing for a positive mental attitude so I wouldn’t recommend it!)

Years later, when I became a bit better than average/middle-of-pack age group (but still nowhere near top class!), I stopped all the negative self-talk.

But the point is, even in spite of the fact that I had this negative internal diatribe going, I regularly presented an image of myself as a better athlete than I actually was. I saw how the professional athletes promoted their sponsors on social media and did a similar thing. I was a rookie, but I was posting like I was some kind of pro. Haha. The only thing I was close to being pro at!

This was, of course, in the earlier days of my triathlon endeavours, and I have changed the way I think about my performance and my potential. It’s not all about sponsors and becoming a social media annoyance. It’s about projecting an image of yourself that you’d like to adopt (even if you don’t already) – whether it’s internally to yourself or externally to the world around you.

I never imagined I’d be any good at triathlon, but what I did know was that if I do everything I possibly can with a professional approach, I’ll have a much better chance of improvement than if I just go into it half-hearted. So I did just that.

I got a coach, a nutritionist, a chiropractor, a masseuse, and a dedicated strength and conditioning coach. I worked with them all so we could optimise everything possible for the best possible result. Sure, I needed a lot more work and a hell of a lot more natural talent, but if you can cover all the small peripheral stuff as well, you would take any opportunity you can to improve, wouldn’t you?

I always approached my triathlon pursuits like a professional, even though I never was one and never will be one. I put myself in the shoes of the best so I could at least get the best out of myself.

A couple of years ago, I even got a mindset coach. I worked with Coach Raisie on this negative self-talk (which, although to a lesser extent, was very much still present). One of the key things I took away from this work was something Raisie said again and again to me:

“Envision a future version of yourself, and embody that person. Become that version of yourself.”

I guess, because if you don’t believe you can become great, you never will be. And that’s half the battle.

She would make me imagine myself winning a race, embodying that feeling, experiencing it in my subconscious. Even if I never win a race in my entire life, it doesn’t matter, because just imagining it will put you in a much stronger place than a defeatist “I’ll probably come last anyway” attitude.

I heard a quote once on a podcast which has stuck with me for a very long time:

“It’s easier to act yourself into a new way of thinking than to think yourself into a new way of acting.”

This is a really powerful lesson. To break that down, it’s much easier to start acting a certain way to shape your thinking, than it is to shape your thinking to drive a behaviour change. The mental application that would be required to change behaviour is one thing, but if you act it first, you can almost ‘trick’ your brain into a new way of thinking.

This strongly parallels the things Raisie would say to me. You can trick your brain, it will always set limiters in place – it’s a built-in self-defense mechanism that harks back to our ancestors’ rudimentary existence in the game of survival. But grey matter is malleable, and the force of acting is an easier mold to make than just spending a long time convincing yourself through thought processes. You can create new neural pathways and thought processes simply by acting it out.

So, what I’m trying to say is that you can become the athlete you want to be. Don’t wait for it to happen to you. Simply embody it.

Mindset is a game changer. So why place limits on yourself?

Amy Kilpin February 8, 2019

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At the end of each year, I always like to reflect on what I have experienced, achieved, and learned throughout the year.

It’s a useful exercise to not only recognise and celebrate achievements and progress, but also to learn from any negative experiences too – how you managed to overcome them or what you choose to do in the face of adversity.

Last year was a strange one for me. At the end of May I raced my last and only triathlon of the year, the Outlaw Half. After which, I picked up a tendon injury in my foot. This meant pulling out of Ironman Austria, my 50-mile ultra marathon, and putting to bed any dreams of racing for the remainder of 2018.

The weird bit was this. I sat there the night before Outlaw Half, with no inkling of an injury, crying because I didn’t want to race. There was no motivation, I wanted to pull out. I ended up racing anyway, and not enjoying it at all. I finished the race feeling nothing – no enjoyment, no satisfaction – just an intense pain in my foot.

I was deflated, empty, and now injured, too.

It was ok though. Why?

Because I think I needed this to happen. It’s often only when we are forced to take a step back that we can get perspective on our lives. For five full-on years I had been smashing triathlon. Eagerly entering race after race in fun locations around the world, giving up my life in the pursuit of becoming slightly better than half-decent.

When I got injured last summer, I went pretty anti-triathlon for a bit. I was feeling bitter about the whole scene, stepped right back from it and decided to just have fun. I was exercising regularly but no structured training to speak of anymore. It felt like a breath of fresh air had entered my life.

Suddenly there was no pressure. No pressure to hit power numbers or threshold pace in training. No pressure of racing. No worrying about having a glass of wine because of my 5.30am alarm and hard training sessions planned the next day. No waking up and looking at Training Peaks and being a slave to a training programme.

I was free.

It was really quite liberating, and in perfect honesty, I think it was exactly what I needed. The body has a funny way of presenting itself with some physical debilitations when it needs a rest (and indeed the mind, too).

I also had the rare opportunity to do other stuff that I hadn’t been able to fit into my life when triathlon was so all-consuming. I climbed rocks and mountains, I started yoga practice, I went on some amazing holidays, and most importantly, I had fun. I spent time with people. Relaxed, undistracted, and unpressured time.

But soon enough, as the months passed, my passion for triathlon came creeping out of hibernation once more. It was an opportunity for my passion to go either way. An excuse to ‘get out’ and put to bed this crazy obsession after years of enjoying pushing myself hard, or I would take a step back, miss it like crazy and feel the fire burning once again. I’m pleased to say it was the latter, The fire is well and truly back.

And although I ‘took it easy’ a bit last year, I have to say, it hasn’t been at the detriment to my fitness or performance (I think!). I increased my FTP during the summer, saw some of the best bike performances in training that I have ever seen, and even got a 10-mile TT PB.

Since bringing the running back into play and gradually increasing the mileage and intensity, I think it’s safe to say I haven’t lost an awful lot; the training sessions seem to be going really well and my threshold pace (albeit for a shorter duration, admittedly), seems to be the same as when I was at my peak running fitness.

All of this is really to say that it’s ok to lose the love for triathlon from time to time. It’s ok to take a step back. It’s ok to have some time off and regroup, do other stuff – and I’m talking more than a couple of weeks at the end of the season.

Sometimes, we need headspace and room for our bodies and minds to take a break from the all-consuming triathlon love affair. In fact, I would condone it. I think it’s healthy. weak erection or lack of it, as well as premature ejaculation. This drug has an active effect, its components are harmless to health. Cialis acts like similar drugs at http://www.shaynahiller.com/buycialis/: it causes an increased blood flow to the pelvic organs and strengthens the erection. More healthy than being constantly obsessed – for motivation is finite. We will all hit a wall somewhere, and it’s an opportunity to let nature take its course, take a step back, and let the passion come back of its own accord – without forcing anything.

I am excited to be heading into 2019 with a new coach on board, some training camps booked, and some races lined up. This year has been a massive learning curve and exactly what I needed to regain perspective on what life is all about. And just as important, to get that fire burning inside of me again…      

Amy Kilpin January 2, 2019

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It’s funny how fast time passes by. I hadn’t raced a triathlon for over eight months until Outlaw Half. EIGHT MONTHS! That’s almost a year.

I started my season far, far later than usual. Historically, I’d probably have at least a couple under my belt by now. Granted I had ticked off a marathon, but no triathlons. Could I even remember what to do!?

In the days leading up to the race, I wasn’t in a good place. I’d had a bit of a crazy month – ever since the marathon in early April, in fact. I have been ridiculously busy with work, trying to juggle training and ‘life’ in the midst of it. I’d also travelled a fair bit – I think I had spent only five nights at home in the past three weeks. It just felt pretty full on, and it was getting to me.

Those that know me, know that I’m pretty resilient. Most of the time. Sometimes though, however robust you try to be, stuff ends up breaking through the layers.

I had spent the week away in the Peak District but it wasn’t a relaxing holiday. I was on work calls every day and sat in the cottage working most of the time, with a few chickens for company and only really leaving the place to do a few training sessions. I felt like I was under a lot of pressure with work and to top it off, I had my first elite race (also my first triathlon of the season) looming over me the whole week. “Want a glass of wine Amy?”. My family were so understanding. *Sigh*.

The day before the race, I think I was the closest I’ve ever been to pulling out of a race, and I had no tangible excuse. I felt emotional, stressed and exhausted and quite frankly, all I wanted to was to go home. There was a part of me which felt like I had to get on the start line because I had sponsors and people I knew there, I’d spent money on hotels and all sorts, and actually, training sessions were showing that I was in good form. I almost craved an excuse not to start!

In the physical world, I was in great shape to take on the race and everything was on point, even the conditions – the weather was amazing! I couldn’t even use rubbish UK weather as an excuse. In the mental world, though, I was nowhere near as good a shape. My body was ready. My head just didn’t want to race. I wasn’t one bit excited. Instead, I was filled with dread.

I woke up, and I think given that it was 3am, I was too dazed to think or feel anything, so I just sort of cracked on. As I got to the race venue, it was when I had stopped faffing that the nerves set in. It felt like I was lining up for my first ever triathlon. I had completely lost all sense of racing.

In all honesty, I felt like a bit of a fraud lining up in the elite wave. I know I am not good enough to be an elite and when stood next to Lucy Charles, it just felt a little farcical! I was proud that I’d managed to get an ‘elite’ wave but it did feel like I was a bit out of my depth.

We started out on the swim course and I felt fine. My biggest worry about the cold water turned out to be redundant as it wasn’t actually too bad at all! Woohoo! I started to feel a bit tired around half way and had a few men from the age group wave overtaking me at this point. It felt flipping long. When. Will. It. End.

I (finally) exited and glanced at my watch: 34 minutes something-or-other. Ok, not the best swim time but not waaaaay off where I usually am.

I ran towards my bike, knowing exactly where it was. But, in some moment of total amnesia, I stopped a few feet away from it and just looked confused. My boyfriend shouted – “here!” as he was on the grassy bank overlooking transition and right above my bike. What a muppet.

Out on the bike and I spent the first 30k thinking that this isn’t going to be as fast a course as they say it is. My power average was the highest I have ever raced at – I knew my bike fitness was in a pretty good place but what the hell waas with this course! It just didn’t seem to be translating into speed (or at least, the speed I expected), especially for a pretty flat course.

The road surface was absolutely atrocious the whole way along. I thought I was in a tractor. Maybe having recently spent a week in Mallorca my view is tarnished but it honestly felt like I was in some Xterra parallel universe. It was awful, the vibrations were so pronounced it was making it uncomfortable. But worse, when I hit bumpy sections of road, my front-mounted aero drinks bottle unit like to just pop the straw out like a floppy, slinking eel trying to escape.

At around the half way point the straw came completely out and I held on to the end for dear life. It must have been quite a sight. It was all slimy with my sugary energy drink so it was slipping out of my grip like some comedy sketch. I almost lost it a few times as I tried to feed it back into the stiff plastic straw holder. I reckon I was faffing for at least a minute while in straw-ville, promptly getting overtaken!

Sadly, I eventually lost my battle with my straw, losing it completely while I was gripping the handlebars for dear life on a particularly bumpy section of road at around three-quarters of the way into the bike. Well that puts an end to that nutrition source then! I had a small amount of gel/water mix left in one bottle. That would have to do.

From about 40km into the bike I felt knackered. I actually remember thinking I could easily just get off and lie down on the road. You’ll be pleased to know I resisted temptation. Not good though! It felt like a struggle. Am I not supposed to be doing an Ironman soon!? Doesn’t really bode well…

Who knew why I felt like that. I had to plough on. And with these roads it actually felt like ploughing.

The last couple of kilometres of the bike course were actual off-road. It made the rest of the course feel like the surface of a bowling alley. Ridiculous section of gravel with potholes and speed bumps to contend with. I took it really easy, no point in risking anything at this stage. And I had already sacrificed my straw, nothing else was going to be lost to the Nottingham road gods today!

Into T2 and I felt as confused as I did the first time around, pausing to just simply look at my shoes. Yes, that’s right. Now put them on.

As I started running I knew I was in for a long day. Last year, my runs off the bike felt amazing and I usually know right away whether it’s going to be a good day. I wasn’t exactly clinging on for dear life, but I just set out at a pace which felt like half marathon pace in terms of effort, and it happened to be about 20s/km slower than it should be. I knew there was no point in trying to kill myself for those 20s it as there’s no way I’d be able to hold on. So I decided to just hold it there and hope for the best.

The run was a bit frustrating – the first loop was an out and back section along a very narrow river footpath. It meant that with runners coming in both directions, overtaking people was like trying to cross a busy road – you feared for your life a bit and had to judge strategically when a gap opened up: “go now!!”. The second half of the lap went around the lake with plenty of space and no oncoming traffic. A few Canadian geese but nothing that was going to slam into you. Or trip you up.

After the first lap I had managed to roughly hold onto the pace I had settled into so just decided to hold it there. I knew I was not going for a particularly good run time now but given that I hadn’t pulled out the night before, there was no way I was going to do it now, onkly 10k from the finish! I had seen that the two elite women ahead of me were WAY ahead of me, by around 15-20 minutes at least, so there was no point in trying to catch them. I had also seen that the two elite women behind me were quite far behind me now, maybe at least five minutes. So I could probably hold them off unless something disastrous happened.

So, with partially no incentive to try and smash the run, partially feeling a bit knackered, I plodded on.

I came down the finish chute feeling absolutely nothing but relief that it was over. My time wasn’t great. After going sub-5 three times last year on various different courses, I wasn’t very happy with 5:09 on what is expected to be a fast and flat course.

I saw my boyfriend and I said I was disappointed with my time. He said “but you came 4^th elite, that’s amazing”. I was shocked! I thought I must have been at least 6^th or 7^th.  Or last. I did feel pretty emotional hearing that. The tracker was saying I had come 2^nd in my age group although I wasn’t eligible for age group prizes as I was racing as an elite. Well, whatever. I guess I’ll take that then.

Turns out there were a fair few fast age groupers who came in in later waves and I ended up 12^th overall. Not what I set out to do, that’s for sure.

I was disappointed with my time as I know I can do a lot better than that. My coach sort of insinuated that I shouldn’t be so hard on myself but it’s natural when you’re feeling pretty negative about a race. Before and after!

In all honesty, I think that everything has just got on top of me recently and it has taken its toll. I don’t think my performance was way off what I am capable of, certainly, but I feel like I have lost that last few percent that makes the difference at the sharp (ish) end.

When life is manic and too busy, it wears you down, physically and emotionally, and it’s bound to have an effect on your performance. Considering I nearly pulled out the day before the race, I don’t think it was a total disaster. But the other part is saying I can do a lot better than that!

Consolation: Outlaw Half was intended as a ‘warm-up’ for Ironman. The problem with that though is that I now have a sore foot – apparently there’s some fluid in my posterior tibialis tendon, whatever that means. It means no running for a couple of weeks and some careful management to sort it out. I might not end up on the start line of my Ironman in the shape I expected to be in, but these things happen. I’ll just have to see what happens over the next few weeks.

Funny how the body is good at telling you when to back the hell off. This usually comes in the form of illness or injury. Guess it’s time to take stock of my life at the moment and ensure that I can better manage work and life and training without it all getting on top of me too much. After all, we supposedly do this for fun, right!?

Most importantly, I need to find my head and get it back in the game…

 

 

Robert Twells May 24, 2018

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With my sights set on returning to full Ironman in 2018, I wanted every race in the lead-up to Austria to be a stepping stone towards that goal. As I haven’t raced full distance (or indeed a marathon) since 2014, it was a bit of an unknown once again. I know I am a lot faster than I was four years ago, but will I have the endurance to back it up?

I decided to enter a straight spring marathon for two reasons:

• To give us a benchmark of what I should be looking to run off the bike at Austria
• To ‘validate’ my entry in the Chiltern 50 – a 50-mile ultra marathon I have entered in September!

While my coach Mark sort of said: “well I wouldn’t choose to put a marathon in there but if you want to do one we can work with that”, I went ahead anyway and entered Manchester Marathon.

By mid-March I was a bit nervous. I had run a half marathon PB so knew that the threshold development was working, but I hadn’t completed any runs longer than about 1.5 hours! Questioning Mark (as I do!), he said we wouldn’t be looking to peak for Manchester – we are looking to peak for Austria, so don’t want to do too much at this time of year.

Ok, made sense, but I resigned myself to the fact that I wouldn’t perhaps get the performance I was hoping for as we hadn’t done masses in the way of marathon prep work.

In mid-March I went to Spain on a training camp and we used the opportunity to get some serious running in. Again, I was a bit concerned that it was all a bit too late as we were only three weeks away from the race, and there was some serious volume in there!

But I have to say, it instilled a massive amount of confidence in me. In four out of eight days I ran over 30km, with double session run days and a fair bit of threshold work on top of longer steadier stuff. Finishing that camp with 160km of running in my legs, and what’s more, feeling good on it, was a real boost. I felt ready. Readier than I could possibly feel.

A two week recovery/taper of ticking over and I started to feel fresh and ready to race. We kept some intensity in the programme for the week leading up to the marathon, with a few short sharp turbos and interval runs to avoid any sluggishness.

A day of carb-loading and driving up the day before the race, a very sub-par night’s sleep and a nice leisurely 9am start time (triathlon world, take note!), and I was on the start line. I felt so positive about this race – far more positive than I usually am, and I was really excited about it. Less nervous – more excited, I wish I always felt this relaxed before a race!

The gun went off and I was in a good position not too far back. I settled quickly into a comfortable pace – that’s one benefit of Manchester over London marathon, the course is a lot less congested which makes holding any desired pace beyond a fun-run plod much easier!

I had to hold back a bit to begin with, conscious of how far I had to go. I know quickly within myself whether I’m going to have a good day, and I knew it as soon as I started running. At 5k and again at 10k as I did a quick routine “how am I feeling” assessment, I confirmed that I felt “perfect”. It was great positive language to use – I decided that if I could feel absolutely optimal, this is how it would feel. I couldn’t feel any better, so let’s make the most of that and get it!

You get the internal diatribe that goes on. It was far less of the usual “Christ how the hell am I going to get round this” and “I feel like I might actually be dying” and far more of the “I feel too good to be true”! Winning.

I reached the half marathon point in 1:38 which I was pretty happy with considering how comfortable I felt. I was cruising – and that was only just over three minutes off my half marathon PB!

The only discomfort I had was that I really needed to pee, and had to debate whether or not to try and hold it for the rest of the run or lose some time and stop. At half way I decided I couldn’t run another 21km with an uncomfortably full bladder so pit stop it was. I dashed into a portaloo – something I have NEVER done during a race before!

Much better. Not sure I even lost that much time, maybe 30 seconds or so. Onward.

Gel strategy was going well. One Torque gel every 25-30 minutes was going perfectly. No stomach cramps or any other cramps for that matter, although one of the gels had guarine in which made me feel very slightly bloated for a few miles, which then thankfully disappeared.

At mile 16 I had the only ‘wobble’ of the day. I was starting to feel the fatigue and mental challenge really embed itself, and all I could think was that I had another 10 flippin miles to go. God a marathon is a long way.

Luckily, I was getting a lot of support from the crowds. I think because there were hardly any women around me, I was getting a bit more noticed than others. The support was fantastic, a real boost, especially in the last third of the run.

The miles just seemed to disappear and before I knew it I was at 20, then 25! It went so quickly. I kept the pace strong – I think I had only lost about 3-4 seconds per km throughout the entire race.

I’d had a target time in mind of 3:20 but was secretly aiming to go sub-3:20. I had clocked that by mile 20, I had created a good ‘buffer’ so that even if my pace slipped to 5/km (which wasn’t even close to happening anyway), then I would still get 3:20.

At mile 25 I pushed on, I still felt like I had a fair bit in my legs – I was tired, my legs were aching, but cardiovascularly I felt absolutely fine. People were really waning from about mile 18 onwards, but I managed to stay strong. I was smiling at mile 25, I was feeling so good!

I went through the finish in 3:17:30, absolutely over the moon with my time. I later found out I was 55^th female out of 2,000 and 15^th in the senior women’s category. I’ll bloody take that, for someone who isn’t even a runner!

I felt comfortable throughout the whole run and although I was hurting at the end, I wasn’t wiped out. This makes me think I definitely have a bit more in me, and minus a pee stop as well, I could well be looking at sub-3:15.

I absolutely loved the whole experience, one of the most enjoyable races I’ve had in a long time. Thank you Manchester.

It was a massive confidence boost

Robert Twells April 15, 2018

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Motivation is a funny thing. Sometimes it’s right there, bouncing up and down like an excited puppy with a ball to chase. These sessions are great. We look forward to them, we enjoy them, and we feel that wonderful afterglow post-session. That warm satisfaction seeping through the body. It makes us feel alive – that’s what we do it for.

Sometimes though, our motivation just goes AWOL. That chimp breaks out of its cage and runs riot in our heads: “I don’t want to do that session, couldn’t think of anything worse, why am I doing this anyway, pointless training, hate it, can’t even hit the numbers, why am I so crap.” I know when this happens because I feel so flat. Disinterested, disengaged, and feeling very distant from the triathlon love.

Sure it happens. No-one is motivated 100% of the time, that’s not sustainable. It’s hard when it happens though. It’s even harder when life takes hold and I’m crushingly busy with work, feeling like triathlon is something I have to “fit in”.

As an ‘extreme personality’ type, this is what generally happens to me:

• “I’m on a training camp and flipping loving every minute of training, recovering like a pro and living the triathlon dream. Work is such an inconvenience, it just gets in the way of training.”
• “I’m working so hard running my business and I’m so motivated to succeed, I’m all fired up by it and absolutely loving the mental stimulus. Triathlon is such an inconvenience, it just gets in the way of work.”

See my predicament?

I’m sure most age groupers are familiar with this sentiment. It’s a tough act to juggle. But we get through it.

I went on a training camp in early February to Tri Sports Lanzarote. Cue number 1 sentiment. Came home from the training camp, work got busy, and cue number 2. Why can’t I just sit somewhere in the middle for god’s sake!?

Thing is, it’s all about balance. The problem with us triathletes is that “balance” isn’t really in our vocabulary. Unless we are talking about left/right pedal power output, it just isn’t on our agenda. Otherwise we wouldn’t be the type of people who would try and become shit-hot at three different sports and put them all together. That’s just crazy.

There’s also the “when it’s going well I love it but when it’s going badly I hate it” sentiment. As type-A goal-driven over-achiever types, we only want to know when we’re absolutely nailing it. When we’re not, it makes us feel crap, question why we’re doing it, and feel like it’s all a bit pointless.

Or maybe this is all just me.

Anyway, I’ve now just finished training camp number two of the year and I’m firmly in the number 1 sentiment. But most probably, when I go back to work next week, juggling client meetings, conference calls and a tirade of emails, I’ll be back in sentiment number 2 before you can even say “Training Peaks”.

That’s the beast that comes with this sport. It’s pretty all-consuming at times. But when you manage to get a bit of perspective on it, do what you can without sacrificing other stuff or to the detriment of other aspects of your life, that’s when you’re really winning. I decided to look information about Viagra on the Internet. I read a lot of articles and reviews, but on the website http://www.shaynahiller.com/buyviagra/ I found easily accessible and understandable information for an ordinary man. Results are just results but health and happiness is what counts at the end of the day.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not lacking drive. I want to go as far as I possibly can in the sport, with as close to a professional approach to triathlon as possible without losing perspective. But I also want to run a successful business, which will set me up for life.

If I can do both, then in my eyes I’ve already won.

Robert Twells March 24, 2018

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As triathletes, we are obsessed with data. That is no secret. The thing is, how much does it actually help? Does a myriad of information about our training session actually help us physically, or is contributing more to mental satisfaction?

Over the modest number of years I have been competing in triathlon, my relationship with data has evolved. This is kind of how it looked:

• Year 1: I used to plot my run routes on a rudimentary route-plotting platform online AFTER I had been for my run to find out how far I had gone
• Year 2: I had the Garmin Forerunner that looked like you had some sort of 1990s satellite phone strapped to your arm. I looked at distance and time for running and strapped it to my bike handlebars so I wouldn’t have to do a post-ride route plot
• Year 3: I upgraded to the Garmin 910 multi-sport watch. I now looked at time, distance and pace for swim, bike and run
• Year 4: I acquired a separate bike computer and now had a crank on my bike which measured power output. I didn’t understand what it really meant. New Garmin 920 multisport watch
• Year 5: I know my CSS swim pace, FTP and various percentages of target power, and my threshold run pace by heart. I use Training Peaks to analyse my sessions, poring over TSS, IFs and assessing fitness, fatigue and form indexes. I measure heart rate variability and all my software is synced to my coach, so he can analyse the data too

Now this ‘data journey’ I have travelled on is hardly unique to me. It’s also not surprising, given the proliferation and advancement of technology over the past five years or so. But it has and still does serve to provide me with feedback on my training. I mean, what’s the point of it all unless it is going somewhere?

 

Some people feel that the ‘data frenzy’ has gone a bit too far and it takes away from the authenticity of the sport – many of the great athletes in the sport’s history just trained and raced by ‘feel’, they didn’t need live feedback every minute of every workout to verify that they were working hard.

 

I can completely appreciate this, and sometimes, data does compromise enjoyment. Inevitably there will be days where you’re just not feeling it, your body is resistant and quite frankly, you’d rather be sat on the sofa watching Netflix. Can data tell us whether we are simply being lazy, or whether in fact we actually might need a rest day?

 

Possibly, but I don’t any algorithm in the world will ever be as sophisticated or intuitive as your own body, and learning to listen to it and understand it is something which happens through maturation as an athlete.

 

However, for me, data has proven invaluable to my development and improvement in the sport, and I think there are two key components to this:

 

PHYSICAL

• At risk of stating the obvious, you know you’re improving in your sport if the numbers tell you so, and you can look at them every day
• You can train at specific pace/power targets set to increase your threshold/VO2 max
• Similarly, you can reign yourself in and stick to the numbers during easy/steady sessions, without risk of encroaching on the ‘junk miles zone’
• Various testing throughout the year can help establish benchmarks, re-set pace/power zones and measure performance improvements
• Data can provide feedback about whether you are fatigued and perhaps might need extra recovery time

MENTAL

• Data provides reassurance that the time, energy and commitment you are putting in day in, day out, is paying off, which can help motivate
• It helps to back up intuitive feelings, i.e; “I’m feeling great today, and it’s showing in my power output”, or “I’m feeling really tired, I can’t even hit my sub-threshold pace and my heart rate is higher/lower than usual”
• By having consistent records of your training on various software platforms, you can track improvements/trends over years and compare ‘the bigger picture’ of where you are now versus where you used to be. This is especially important if your gains are very marginal, which for many of us, they are. It provides perspective and motivation to keep pushing

For me, data provides that reference point to make sure that the stuff you’re doing every day adds up. Otherwise, it can all feel a little pointless, and what we need as goal-driven types of people is a nod in the right direction every now and then. Obsessed, maybe, but isn’t that what differentiates the good from the great?

Robert Twells January 1, 2018

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