Hello everyone, welcome to the new site.

Please bear with me while I relocate all my old blog posts... there’s some considerable gaps in the archive at the moment. I’ll get there - thanks for all your patience

xx

... That I lost my bike. Right in the middle of the race.

It started out brilliantly. I cleared the swim section, removed my wetsuit without issue (no leaping about bandy-leg style) and powered into Transition One. To find 12,999 other bikes, all identical to mine. I had tied a rag to the handlebar to aid identification - but every other bike also had this. Cue that emergent hideous dream-panic. No matter how many rows of bikes I ran down, none was distinguishable as my own. I woke in a horrible sweat.

After a few moments of OH-MY-GOD-OH-MY-GOD I was able to comfort myself that this scenario is most unlikely to happen in real life. The speed I swim at, by the time I get there my bike is likely to be only one left in the racks. This, no doubt, will provoke other anxiety-ridden dreams as training goes on.

I think I am going to spray my bike pink, with polka dots of some sort. Orange ones.

I’ve entered Norwich. I should probably set up some kind of fundraising page now as it does seem that I am actually DOING THIS.

The Norwich Tri is a sprint distance - so 800m swim, 20k bike and 5k run. Not so tough, I was thinking. Then having paid, I took a look at the times.

Hum. I think I will be fairly near the back of the pack.

Okay I can’t keep this up. I’m lying. I’m going to be at the back, probably by a good margin. If you have any mercy, please come armed with Dairy Milk and lob a square or two at me from time to time (please, no aiming at the head, not cool).

Also, Whitlingham has a serious swan issue. Anyone who has ever been there with an over-confident dog or child will know exactly what I mean. I’ve nearly lost both in the past. So what I’m gaining in the water quality stakes I am losing in the dangerous wildlife stakes.

Right now, I’d be lying if I said I was looking forward to this.

A few weeks after Matthew died, I wrote about the NHS Wall of Life. From about the age of ten, Matthew carried a donor card. This unselfish act gave someone the gift of sight, and I am very proud of him for that. Matthew’s photo was placed on the Wall of Life, a giant mosaic of nearly 14,000 pieces, each photo denoting an individual who either given the gift of life, or who had signed the register. At the time, Matt was one of only a few hundred on there. Now the mosaic is full, and it is beautiful.

If you have not already done so, please join the Organ Donation Register.