Sport meets fashion (written for AddVictor)

Is there room for fashion in sport or sport in fashion?
In the past athletes might have been labelled as a tracksuit loving, high-heel phobic, fashion clueless group, I think it is safe to say that that myth has well and truly been dispelled in the last twelve months. I am obviously referring to the female sporting population, men in sport have had a much stronger and established relationship with the fashion industry.

The natural human instinct of thinking the grass is always greener is quite possibly responsible for my love of fashion. Having been brought up in sport or should I say in a  tracksuit I have come to jump at the opportunity to throw off my trainers and replace them with a sexy stiletto heel. My athlete friends and I spend hours discussing how we yearn to slip on a figure hugging pencil skirt with a feminine blouse and head to work looking groomed and professional. My wardrobe has several barely worn structured day dresses, smart blazers and flattering tailored trousers that I purchased for their pure beauty before reminding myself that if I am lucky I might find a just couple of suitable occasions per year.

From a purely Olympic view fashion has certainly been embraced by sport, a prime example being the collaboration of Stella McCartney with adidas for the striking design of the TeamGB kit. This initiated debates from the critics questioning the need for such a dramatic change to the traditional Great Britain kit but was answered by the majority of female athletes embracing the new cut and designs, quoting the positive effect that looking good and feeling good has on their performance.

There are numerous examples in recent years beyond the Olympics where sport has been affected or influenced by fashion. However I believe this is incomparable when reversed, the effects that specific sporting outfits have had on fashion over the centuries is far stronger. A perfect display of this was the award winning "Sport in Fashion" exhibition held at the Bath fashion museum last year. The samples of high end fashion combined with professional sporting outfits arranged alongside each other demonstrated this relationship perfectly.

The strong influence of horse riding reflected in the dominant fashion houses such as Dior and Chanel is visible season after season. This is filtering through to high street and in recent years there has been a resurgence of the sport lux look which does not seem to be disappearing any time soon.

I see the building of relationships between sport and fashion as positive and exciting and I will never pass on an opportunity to swap my trainers for a pair of heels (unless on the track) or spend the day wearing make up as opposed to the bedraggled "just-out-of-the-pool" look. However I am cautious not to step over the line between sport and fashion. This fear stems from a clear memory I have of asking my mother "why is the lady wearing jodhpurs and riding boots in the town?" which as an athlete is one look too close to home for me.

Bath is celebrating the third year of its fashion week starting today with catwalk shows, talks, films and exhibitions. I am delighted to be involved once more and have spent many hours during my long hard training sessions planning my outfits, no prizes for guessing I will be steering away from the sport lux look this season.

A "typical" day

It is a question I am asked regularly and still struggle to answer; when training for a multidiscipline event such as Modern Pentathlon no two training days are identical. To help me describe a typical day I have taken a snapshot from my training diary. Admittedly this is one of my tougher and more action packed days as I have to say I thought it would look more impressive.

I have chosen a fairly typical Monday in February when training at the National Performance centre in Bath. This day involved five separate training sessions and was actually free from the usual Physio or massage appointment. I was well recovered at the start of this week after a fairly light weekend in which I just ran on both days but had no competitions or much travelling to do.

I always start my day with a bowl of porridge usually topped with fruit and nuts to add nutrients, washed down with a cup of green tea. I used to be incredibly poor at digesting my breakfast before training but my love of sleep is too strong and now I get up as late as possible.

I drove the ten minutes to the University where the training centre is based and where I stayed for the majority of the day. Having met up with a few of my fellow athletes we set out on a steady 40-50 minute run which as usual we used as a great chance to catch up on the weekend gossip. It was straight into the pool at 10.30am for about a 90' session in which we covered close to 4 kilometres involving a lot of arms only work.

After an aerobic based morning I am usually pretty hungry and I am not alone. The whole squad will jump out of the pool and head up to the cafe on site for a healthy yet substantial lunch. For me this usually consists of a chicken breast and various salads including carbohydrates such as couscous or pasta. Lunch for the squad is usually pretty social and it is time to mix with a few of the athletes from other sports that also train at the university. If I do not have time to head home I regularly pop into the athletes lounge area and put my head down on the sofa for a power nap, the combination of swimming followed by lunch seems to be the perfect recipe for sleep.

This particular Monday involved a meeting unrelated to Pentathlon just a short distance from Bath, however it tied in well as I had to drive in that direction for my riding lesson. Riding is the one sport for which we have to travel, it is only a short 30' drive to the venue where our instructor is based with her horses. My lesson consisted of one to one instruction on a horse called Gucci which despite battling the snowy conditions it was an hour well spent.

I found myself with a spare thirty minutes which I used to drop into my friends house on my journey back from riding, an ideal opportunity to warm up over a cup of tea. I returned to the training centre in time to fit in an individual shooting session on the indoor range. Although our shooting is now combined with running it is still essential to focus on the pure shooting skill.

The final session of the day was a two hour group fence. This included a structured warm up including stretching which was followed by specific footwork exercise. It was then time to kit up and enter into a poole format in which we all fenced each other including the boys.

This day was not a particularly demanding in terms of the intensity of the sessions but it was long in duration as I returned to my flat over eleven hours after I left. Obviously this was just a snapshot and some days will include gym sessions, physiotherapy, massage, nutrition meetings, combined event training, individual fencing lessons and more intense physical sessions which explains the difficulty I have in describing a "typical day".

Badminton Horse Trials (TT column 06/05/13)

Did that Bank Holiday weekend really just happen or did I imagine that there was glorious sunshine for all three days? I'm aware that I am still yet to appreciate the full meaning of these extra holidays in the British Calender as there is not a significant difference for an athlete. However I certainly did make the most of the start of our summer - apologies if I have just jinked the weather for the next few months.
For as long as I can remember I've got excited about Badminton horse trials and over the last few years I've managed to attend most of them. 2012 was an unfortunate exception and hard to comprehend right now as it was cancelled last minute due to water logging.  For those unaware of Badminton it is the Olympic sport of three day eventing which has similar kudos to Wimbledon for tennis or the Masters for golf. With commentators describing the Olympic, European and World Champion Micheal Jung as missing the elusive title it gives a clear example of how significant this competition is.
I often mention how unknown the riding part of modern pentathlon can be partly because we will be riding an 'unknown' horse but basically because it simply involves a horse.
To have your horse on the start line of a big event such as Badminton is an achievement in itself so to be in the lead after the first two events with just the show jumping remaining is an impressive feat. This was the position the reigning Olympic Champion found himself in until the final fence of the whole competition when the incredibly 'expensive' pole rolled out of its cups. Anyone watching the nail biting climax would struggle not to feel for Micheal but sport is a game and it is the game that gets us hooked whether watching or partaking.
As long as the British weather behaves there is always next year.

And again! (TT column 29/04/13)

I was once told one must fall off at least eleven times before being classed as a rider. I think this was most probably by my mother when I'd fallen off my pony for the tenth time. Unfortunately once I reached that magic number I continued to rack up a few more just at a slower rate; most importantly I was officially a "rider" by then.
When I began the new sport of road cycling I was not aware of any such "rules", although I was warned cycling with cleats could lead to the odd gentle if not slightly embarrassing topple. So when I'd already separated from my bicycle before even being introduced to shoes with cleats the future didn't look so bright. I'd been reluctant to transfer out of the comfort of my trainers due to the aforementioned increased risk of falling combined with the inconvenience of having to walk like a duck when wearing the stiff unpractical cycling shoes. Yes I had a seemingly unavoidable "topple" on my first ride, having uncleated the left I made the school boy error of turning sharply to the right.
The warmer weather combined with the fact I'm still unable to swim (as a result of the initial mishap) has meant more time spent on my bike. My confidence was building and I had ventured out alone last Friday combining training with a visit to a friend's house for tea. The idea to save her heading out in her car backfired, she ended up driving me and my damaged bicycle back home. This time I can honestly say it was not my fault, it seems some cars do not give way to cyclists when on a roundabout. The consolation being I am now symmetrical with my new wounds being on the opposite side to previously.
I do seriously hope that I don't need another eight falls until I can class myself as a "cyclist".

I get knocked down but I get up again (TT column 08/04/13)

I am conscious of this quickly becoming a cycling column but I can not ignore yesterday's ride as I am most certainly still suffering and in a way I haven't suffered before.
I headed out on another group ride, this time in Bath with a smaller slightly less experienced bunch of riders. After the midway coffee break we hit a relatively straight and flat road, I thought would be the ideal opportunity to test out the "drafting factor" that a more experienced rider had been explaining to me.
The front pack started to breakaway so this was my chance, I got in close and tested the effects of being in the slip stream. I can assure you it is true, suddenly you need half the amount of effort to keep up. The key is being within half a bike wheel away from the one in front, this I soon discovered requires a fair amount of concentration when travelling at a speed of 25mph. I was flying along and loving it until - only momentarily - I was on the back wheel of the bike in front; I was then sent sliding horizontally across the gravelly verge. This was an unusual moment when I actually appreciated the never ending winter, as a result of these Baltic temperatures I was wearing several layers of clothes which added considerable protection.
After years of riding horses and of course falling off them i have had one theory strongly ingrained in me - always get straight back on after a fall. This ethos came in handy when miles away from home, luckily with no time to stop and think about the discomfort I made my way back safely. I know my pride and wounds will undoubtedly heal, although I am most upset about the scars on my once sparkly beautiful new bicycle.
I will end my sympathy seeking immediately though as this is nothing compared to what jump jockeys face on a regular basis. After the Grand National I think this has been highlighted, those jockeys are incredibly tough both physically and mentally.

Cinderella (TT column 01/04/13)

It is only due to the fact that I watched a television drama just prior to going to sleep that my nightmares involved a cave in Carcassonne as opposed to the hills in West Devon. If I hear the words Broadwoodwidger or Combebow I get a shiver down my spine, some of you might know these country lanes and wonder why they evoke such emotions, if I had only ever driven them I would ask the same. I braved the early start on Easter Sunday; despite losing an hour of valuable sleep and the snowy conditions outside I happily freewheeled my way into Tavistock blissfully unaware of what a morning out with the Tavistock Wheelers might involve. I think it is fair to say I earned at least half of the chocolate I proceeded to eat later that day.

Before heading home for Easter I had a few diverse and action packed days in London. They ranged from watching McFly by candle light in aid of Earth hour, presenting prizes at the schools biathlon championships and attending the Sport Journalist Association awards evening. I was honoured to present a prize at the SJA awards to none other than the acclaimed Sunday Times journalist David Walsh for his exposure of Lance Armstrong in the doping saga - you never know he might have started out with a small weekly column too. Unfortunately I did not have the opportunity to pick the brains of these award winning presenters and journalists as I had a train to catch. I felt a little like Cinderella as I was stripping out of my gorgeous yet borrowed designer dress and running to catch the last train home, stupidly though I forgot to drop a slipper, I shall just have to keep looking for my prince.

A small world (TT column 25/03/13)

It ceases to surprise me how small this world can be. One example occurred whilst travelling on a packed train to London. I was fortunate enough to board early so had my choice of seats although this does not give one the luxury to choose who you might like to share the arm rest with. Luckily the battle of the elbows was very subtle and I didn't have too much of my personal space invaded, anyhow it was not long before I fell asleep for the remainder of the journey to Paddington. It was no surprise that the train was later than scheduled, as a result it was a dash across the city using the underground network to make my meeting. Arriving a little late and rather flustered you can imagine my confusion when entering the room to discover the gentleman I'd shared my armrest with for the last two hours was already sat down, relaxed and looking thoroughly into the discussion at hand (apparently taxis are a faster option). I was so glad that elbow battle had been gentle, I just hope I didn't nod onto his shoulder during my nap.
The other scenario occurred whilst out for a run in the Bath countryside. Earlier that morning I had a visit from a new builder to discuss problems with my flat, he mentioned he lived locally but I was not aware of his farm. Feeling adventurous I set off in a different direction and found myself in completely unknown territory having to ask for directions. After a steep climb up through a muddy field the footpath seemed cut directly across someone's front patio, being curious I peered in, only to be met by a familiar face. Feeling a little embarrassed at having been spotted I quickly ran on only for it to dawn on me that it was in fact Manor farm and the aforementioned builder. I'm quite certain I wasn't trespassing but still hope my running kit acted as a sufficient disguise.

California dreaming (TT column 25/02/13)

Oh California! What can I say that won't make you envious of me right now, not much other than I will also be back in the Baltic temperatures of the UK very shortly. I am writing this from Los Angeles having just been to a friend's "Oscars" house party, yes the biggest academy film awards in the world were held literally down the road from where I am staying.

Directly after finishing the Palm Springs World Cup on Saturday evening it was straight to the airport, this time not for a tightly timed flight home but to pick up a car. Having never hired a car, driven on the right side of the road or driven a left hand drive I was a little apprehensive. It did take a while to familiarise with the huge family estate Mazda we had been given, so mich so that after about ten minutes of attempting to start the engine my co driver and I had to ask a passer by, it turned out we had been sat in the wrong car - a little embarrassing. Once over this first hurdle we were off, cruising on an American freeway doesn't require much skill, we headed west leaving the impressive landscape of desert surrounded by mountains towards the bright lights of LA. It is times like this that all the hard training in recent blizzard conditions back home seem more than worth it, the coaches have very kindly given my teammate and I a few days of "leave". I do not think we are going to struggle to fit in some training sessions if running along Venice beach with the sun on our backs or swimming laps in an open air pool count.

It will back to earth or should I say the UK with a bump though as I have a rather significant birthday coming up which I have chosen to celebrate with running Bath half marathon. Maybe not such a wise decision in hind sight.

 

2020 & Hen fun (TT column 18/02/13)

Olympic sport filled the international news headlines last week for a couple of reasons. We had the unfolding of the truly shocking events regarding Oscar Pistorius in South Africa of which I am still struggling to digest and make sense of. Then on a slightly lighter note there was the review of the core sports for the 2020 Olympics.

The minority sport of Modern Pentathlon usually welcomes any press attention, however last week was an exception. Due to the bookies predictions that my sport was the favourite to be axed from the 2020 Olympic programme we had camera crews, journalists and radio stations all keen to speak to us at training. It was a bizarre anti climax as we the athletes were hugely relieved at the announcement of Pentathlon's inclusion in the future Games, yet the press could not disguise their disappointment at being in the wrong place for a "strong" news story. The consequences of this vote were hugely significant for a sport like mine as our funding depends on the potential of Olympic medals, so to hear the great news in the middle of a hard swim session made it all the more appreciated.

Outside of sport it was an action packed week due to the responsibility of organising my friends Hen weekend. Choosing the city of Bath might have been seen as a an easy option but having the inside knowledge was definitely a bonus and the feedback was all refreshingly positive. I did feel slightly guilty though when having to depart early on sunday morning due to my call up for the USA World Cup, but I think I'd filled Saturday sufficiently with a full range of activities including pole dancing, the spa and wine tasting. After such a weekend it is often accepted that you will feel the effect at least the day after, although this is usually due to excess alcohol consumption not achy muscles from a certain activity, and yes that is myself (an athlete) included.