Four times a bridesmaid

It is probably obvious from my travels over the past twelve months that I am a fan of the summer and sunshine rather than the dark winter days we are experiencing now. I always feel for any bride and groom who choose a summer wedding to then spend half of their preparation time praying for the British weather to behave; I guess one way to avoid this worry is to embrace the festive period and get married now.

My close friend Katy nee Livingston choose to do just that. She is northern and therefore used to the colder climate which could explain her decision. The two of us shared an incredibly special year in 2008 including our first Olympic experience competing alongside each other in Beijing. Katy supported me on the way to winning my silver medal so I was delighted to return that support as a bridesmaid on her big day. It was a beautiful ceremony, the subtle sparkles and warm colours fitted perfectly with the Christmas theme. I might almost be a convert - it seems to be becoming rather popular as I have a second winter wedding invitation just days after Christmas.

This time of year has become synonymous with a selection of television show finals - you know the ones I am talking about. There is also the finale to the sporting calendar, the often controversial Sports Personality Awards. The debate continues as to whether the “personality” aspect should be omitted from the title. This years results supported that argument when it was purely a performance that stole the title. Tennis and Andy Murray walked away with the team and individual trophies as a result of their historic win in the Davis Cup. The runners up were more of a surprise to me, both Kevin Sinfield and Jess Ennis-Hill seemed to go under the radar on the build up but their sporting results did the talking.

My first tree

There is no denying it, Christmas is actually around the corner. After the last few full and busy months with trips to hot sunny countries I am at last ready to unpack my bag and stow my passport away. I have been extremely fortunate to have had several foreign Christmas’s, including last year in the middle east. I always relish the chance to experience a different culture although I am not sure that the festive period was the perfect time to visit a dry country, I do enjoy the odd tipple to celebrate the holidays.


Due to my nomadic style lifestyle I have never spent long enough in my flat or lodgings to warrant investing in a Christmas tree. This year is a significant step towards my growing up, I have just bought my first ever tree. In the past it has been suggested that I make things easier and purchase a fold up reusable plastic one, that has never been an option. I have waited long enough for this moment, I am not going to cheat now, and anyway it is all about that gorgeous pine smell, it spells Christmas for me.

Whilst I have been enjoying wearing my Christmas jumper, wrtiting cards, wrapping presents and decorating my tree I have not forgotten our fellow Brits in the north of the country who have been escaping their homes as they watch their possesions being washed away by the floods. This time of year can really test communities, it is impossible to imagine the devestation those residents in Cumbria must be expereincing. I know I am not alone in dreaming of a white Christmas, yet after witnessing the result of that storm my perspective has changed. I will do my best to appreciate being at home and spending Christmas with my family, irrelevant of the weather or what presents are waiting under the tree.

Dress code

Our country will probably never attain the wealth of Qatar or its neighbour the United Arab Emirates but it does have something that money can never buy – free speech and equal rights. On my final evening in Doha I headed to the original down town to witness a snippet of local culture. The main square had a buzzing atmosphere with live arabic music blaring out and it was difficult not to be drawn into the centre to enjoy the dancing. However as I got closer I realised this would not be possible as all of the musicians and dancers were local, tourists did not seem welcome. I was impressed by the vibe and energy in the area, all generated without any alcohol, something we in the West could probably learn from.

Next stop was a short flight over to Abu Dhabi, in the UAE. This time I was visiting a friend who has lived there for a few years. We were heading out to the Grand Prix concert and afterparty so I dressed as I thought appropriate for a country in the middle east, with my shoulders and knees covered. He almost laughed at me and suggested I quickly got changed, it seems western parties are far less conservative. It is not just the dress code that is relaxed - there was certainly no difficulty purchasing and drinking alcohol, no permit or closed doors required.

For my final few days I headed the short bus ride north to the neighbouring Emirate of Dubai. This was my second time visiting my friend in the last twelve months so I was aware that Dubai is the least conservative of all the cities in the Middle East. That did not quite prepare me for the rugby sevens and its dress code. It is quite a challenge to find a modest fancy dress that is comofrtable in thirty degree heat, I soon discovered that I need not have been concerned. It was less about the rugby and more about the party.

It's all about the money

Sport was the winner this week as the chancellor’s autumn statement delivered a pleasant surprise to the sector. It sounded like it was going to be all doom and gloom for most of us as commentators suggested significant cuts to many budgets. Whether it was a last minute u-turn or the rumours were unfounded is now an irrelevance; the chancellor found some extra money and decided to spread it generously around.

The sport sector depends heavily on government funding and it has been a nail biting time for those in charge of budgeting, especially with the Olympics just nine months away. The best-case scenario was thought to be a freeze but the extra £2.3M in funding exceeded all expectations and has given a much needed boost to both sport and health. UK Sport is the direct benefactor that will distribute the budget down to our athletes and Olympic programmes. It sounds like we should be on track for plenty of silverware in Brazil next summer.

An area of the world where money is certainly not an issue when it comes to sport, or in fact any aspect of society, is the Middle East. I was in Doha, Qatar, last week working on a pentathlon competition and our sport has never seen such incredible facilities. To give just one example, the horses at the Al Shaqab Equine Centre have air-conditioned stables - all five hundred of them.

The swim and fence were held at an equally impressive facility that happened to be managed by an expatriate. After speaking to Simon, the venue manager, I soon discovered he was originally from the Westcountry. When I asked where specifically, I was surprised to discover he was originally from near Plymouth and his mother lived in Tavistock. Tavistock and Doha are worlds apart but once again it proves what a small world we live in.

Proud of the rose

Six weeks after the disappointment of the rugby World Cup it is time for England to move forward. The review process dragged out allowing commentators to assign blame to the coach, players and set up.

Sadly former rugby league star Sam Burgess fell foul of the public’s informal review. I say sadly as I feel a player should never be made to feel solely responsible for a poor performance, he was selected by the England coaches and went on to play to the best of his ability at that stage in his union career. That said, it is disappointing to hear that after just one year of the contracted three wearing the blue, black and white stripes of his club side Bath, Burgess has decided to head back to Australia and return to his old rugby league club.

Burgess was not the sole scapegoat, the difficult questions were primarily focused on former head coach Stuart Lancaster and his team. England were the first host nation not to make it out of the group stages. Admittedly it was the toughest of all the groups but that is no excuse for the richest and oldest rugby nation. I think it was obvious that Lancaster would have to leave long before he did the honourable thing and resigned.

The search for a new head coach opened up a wide variety of candidates from both England and abroad. The argument of a foreigner versus an Englishman caused some passionate debate especially among some of the players who have voiced their desire for someone leading them to share their passion and pride for the English rose. It was decided by those at the top that the skills for the job superseded any national pride. It was public knowledge that there was an open chequebook and only the best coach will do, regardless of nationality. The new appointment, Australian Eddie Jones, will have his every move scrutinised - let's hope the money pays off.

A difficult week

I was in no hurry to board my return flight to the northern hemisphere at the weekend. I didn’t want to leave the gorgeous Australian spring behind and return to the British winter. The shocking news from Paris and depressing reports of misconduct in Russian athletics only made the prospect even less enticing.

The majority of my trips abroad are work related but this was purely a holiday so I only managed to keep half an eye on the news. Now I am back in the UK it is still impossible to comprehend the true devastation and implications of the terror attacks in France - my thoughts are with the French.

Sport has also had a difficult week. Before the shocking events in Paris the Russian doping scandal was dominating the headlines and sending shock waves through the world of sport. There have been rumours building for the best part of a year although that is all they had ever been. The results of this investigation have surprised even the most cynical and the question is - what now? There will be numerous athletes waiting to be rewarded with medals retrospectively, not that that can ever repair the damage that has been done by the Russian athletes.

This leaves a huge question mark over the future of sport. It was only last year that wide spread doping in cycling was finally admitted. Football and the world governing body FIFA are under ongoing investigations into corruption and now one of the dominating nations in athletics has added to the black cloud hanging over sport. The Olympics, the largest international sporting event, is only nine months away. Athletes have a lot of hard work to do between now and Rio but nothing in comparison to those who govern the sports. I hope that by next summer all the athletes standing on the podium will be there purely as a result of their talent and determination.

Racing down under

I booked my flights to Australia on a whim a few months ago. The temporary two year move from Plymouth to Sydney by one of my old school friends was the perfect excuse to head down under and the rest of the trip was shaped by many suggestions from others who have lived or currently live here. My horse racing mad godfather and his wife got incredibly excited when they discovered I was to be in Australia over the world famous Melbourne Cup week and so another chunk of the trip fell into place. After a few days spent acclimatising to the 11hr time difference, I left Sydney and headed south to the metropolitan city of Melbourne. The hype surrounding the Melbourne Cup had been evident in Sydney and as soon as I landed in the host city, I knew I was in for a treat.

The majority of my race going experiences have been at local point to points. I have had the occasional experience of dressing up for the races attending Royal Ascot and the Grand National but nothing quite prepared me for the outfits seen on Cup Day in Melbourne. Packing weeks in advance in the chilly UK, it was hard to predict what outfit would be most suitable so I sought advice from the official website and "dress to impress" was all the advice I could find. I discovered the Australian interpretation of this guidance was somewhat different to my own - the outfits were as much a feast for the eyes as the enthralling racing itself.

My only regret of the whole day was not supporting our Cornish neighbours at the bookies. It was a historic day as the 100-1 Prince of Penzance galloped to Cup victory ably ridden by the first ever female winning jockey.

Awkward timing

I will openly admit that after England's early exit I became quite fluid as to my choice of team to support during the remainder of the Rugby World Cup. Initially I moved on to Georgia after my frequent visits to Eastern Europe this summer; fully aware that even though they played gutsy rugby they were unlikely to make it out of the group stages. I then felt that as a Brit I should select a home nation. Scotland were a worthy choice and I certainly felt for our northern neighbours but no one showed their emotion quite as openly as Argentina. I am sure I was not alone in admiring their performance against Ireland and cheering them on against Australia.

That lead us to the final between the New Zealand All Blacks and the Australian Wallabies. According to BBC Sport over eighty percent of people had predicted the All Blacks to win and I was one of those. That did not mean I had pledged to support the rugby Kings and I was struggling to choose where my allegiance lay. My great grandfather was a Kiwi and I was keen to see New Zealand make history by winning back to back World Cups. That said, there was the one small fact that swayed it - I was in Australia when the match was being played.

Secretly I wanted to see the Wallabies in the final as I hoped I would be able to enjoy the pre World Cup final hype on the other side of the world. Sadly there proved to be more advertisements for the upcoming Bond film than the World Cup. Originally I had planned to head out and embrace the occasion in a bar but that was before I realised the kick off was 3am local time. I felt obliged to get up and watch it although crawling downstairs in my pyjamas won over a drunken early morning trip to the pub.

Fashion of food

It has been labelled the new evil; doctors recommend we avoid it and now the Government are planning to tax it. Sugar is the guilty food. The fashion of food changes frequently and it is challenging to keep up with what we are supposed to eat or avoid. It could be about to become much clearer as the government step in with more than a poster awareness campaign. Plans are afoot to introduce a special sugar tax.
It feels like only yesterday that fat was the bad word. We were constantly encouraged to cut out the saturated and reduce a little of the unsaturated from our diets. The most noticeable benefactors from that food phase were the weight loss companies and the pre-packed food industry. As consumers it was clear that we should reduce our fat and therefore opt for food with the same taste but reduced fat content. It has since become clear that reducing our fat intake was not necessarily the correct approach especially as artificial sugars were being added to compensate for the lack of flavour.
Growing up through the “low fat” era I was clearly guided by my sport and the requirements of my body combined with the instruction of the nutritionist. Even though I was training hard I was weaned onto low fat products such as skimmed milk and zero fat yogurts; butter and meat with any sign of fat was certainly off the menu. It was a challenge to consume the recommended amounts of calcium, iron and omega oils whilst keeping the fat and calorie content down.
I am a true convert since my athlete days. I have managed to reduce my sugar intake and now refuse to eat any low fat product, the flavour is incomparable. I support the sugar tax as long as the money raised is used to educate the population on how to live a healthy lifestyle.

Define sport

What is sport? The English dictionary defines it as an “athletic activity requiring skill or physical prowess”; it then mentions that this is often yet not exclusively competitive. A perfect example is the current rugby world cup - it certainly ticks the box for physicality and you only need to watch a game to witness the skill demonstrated by the players.
Almost all activities I partake in, watch or write about come under the umbrella of sport. When you consider that the description also includes “recreation or pleasant pastime” the umbrella doubles in size and opens up the question of when can an activity call itself a sport? This age old question was recently revisited when the card game Bridge claimed to be a sport.
Last week the English Bridge Union lost a high court battle against Sport England who had decided not to class Bridge a sport. To those outside of the sporting network it might seem confusing as to why a card game would so desperately want to class itself as a sport but it should be no surprise that a large part of it comes down to money. As a sport Bridge would be eligible to apply for funding as well as allowing schools and universities to offer it as a sporting option. Even after a high court ruling the case is not closed as the judge focused purely on the case in hand, ruling that Sport England had acted lawfully. He refused to comment on whether Bridge is actually sport.
There are the obvious benefits to being classed as a sport and as mentioned funding is a significant factor. I would like to think that sport must have a physiological benefit to the participant and therefore the heart rate must be raised at some point. Everyone is likely to have an opinion but who should get to have the final say?

Fit for a prince

It is impossible to hide the disappointment of England’s early exit from the Rugby World Cup yet we must not forget that there are still numerous opportunities to enjoy world-class fixtures. I am still undecided on whom to support for the remainder of the tournament although I found a temporary distraction last week thanks to the Georgia versus Namibia match.

I bid for a wide mix of tickets in the ballot but as previously mentioned I was sadly unsuccessful. I had a limited budget and therefore low expectations so would have been delighted to watch any of the pool games in either of the Westcountry stadiums. The small capacities of the Gloucester and Exeter grounds combined the popularity of rugby in this part of the country resulted in no tickets; or so I thought.

A last minute opportunity arose thanks to a friend I bumped into a couple of weeks ago. This resulted in two tickets for the aforementioned game at Sandy Park to watch a team who I already held a natural affinity for. After three trips to Georgia this summer I felt it was obvious to support the Eastern Europeans in their quest to secure a second win. I was hoping for an excitingly close encounter and presumed it would therefore be a popular fixture; I did not however expect it to attract a royal attendance. The rumours of Prince Harry visiting obviously increased media interest in the match and if only I had heard this sooner I might have interpreted the smart casual dress code a little more accurately. My friend and I were intrigued by the heightened security in and around the seats we had been allocated. It soon became clear why I should have dressed a little smarter as the location of our box turned out to be good enough for royalty.

It is only a game

The wound is still raw. It has taken me a few days to come to terms with the devastating defeat England suffered against Australia last Saturday night in the rugby world cup. As I type the words ‘England are out of the world cup’ I feel the pain of a nation that only last week was filled with so much hope and expectation.
At last I had a Saturday night in the UK and one that coincided with England’s third match of the tournament. I must admit my nerves were increasing during the build up but I had never once let my mind contemplate the consequence of a loss. Thankfully this time I was in the comfort of an English friend’s home rather than a Georgian bar with a Frenchman or a wedding in Greece with a Welsh girl, as per the previous weeks. This provided little consolation and or escape. I awoke the next day hoping it had all been a bad dream but was greeted by a downbeat morning news followed by damming newspaper headlines.
Admittedly this is sport and it is “only a game” as I was so often told after a poor performance. That will bring no comfort to our players or the majority of England supporters. It is the statistic of being the first host team to fail to make it beyond the group stages that will continue to haunt us and there is still one month of the tournament left to play.
The only proactive solution must be to pick a new team to support in the hope they can offer a more satisfying result; that said I am personally struggling to switch my allegiances just yet. We do still have one remaining game so we should help “carry them home” - right to the bitter end.

Bride v groom

I did not learn from my mistake, my diary was not planned any more efficiently this week. After watching England's opening game from an empty Georgian bar this time I was hoping to enjoy the atmosphere of a home crowd in a local pub. Instead I found myself in Greece, a country with no affinity for the egg shaped ball.

I stupidly had only thirty hours in the UK after traveling home from Eastern Europe, within which I was required to spend over ten of those driving. I flew into Heathrow, made a beeline to West Cornwall for a few hours of work, then drove through the night back to Gatwick for a 5am flight. The disruption to any sleep pattern, the hours wasted sat in a car and the loss a nights sleep was certainly made worth it as it did mean I was able to drop in and meet my one day old baby nephew.

I am not requesting any sympathy as I am fully aware my travel plans were self inflicted, on top of that my trip to Greece was purely for pleasure; I had been invited to a close friend's wedding. The ceremony was planned for the Saturday, you can guess where this is going, there was a big diary clash but this time not due to my planning. The bride and groom, who are both avid rugby supporters, chose the weeding date long before the group stages of the World Cup were drawn, it was far too late to change anything. The biggest coincidence became apparent as the matches were announced, the bride is welsh and the groom English. It made for any extremely nail biting eighty minutes. My consolation for England loosing had to be the look on my friends face as she declared it to be truly the best day of her life.

Kick off

Kick off. The rugby World Cup has begun at last. What an honour it is for the UK to be hosting such a significant sporting event, I do hope we can use this to our advantage on more than one level. This is a wonderful opportunity to spread the word and increase participation. Rugby has always been overshadowed by the more popular sport of football, yet in my eyes it brings so many more desirable values to those who play or support it. For the England team this is their chance to maximise the home advantage, it worked for our Olympians three years ago, let's hope it can work for our rugby players too.

I have failed in the efficient and logical planning of my diary. The rugby World Cup arrived to the UK and I left. The timing could not have been any worse if I had tried. The Australian team checked into the city of Bath just as I left it, then the Georgian team arrived in Exeter the same week I headed back out to Eastern Europe. Yes I am currently in Georgia commentating on a summer beach sport. I am enjoying the weather but missing the excitement that comes with any World Cup, let alone a sport I love that is hosted by my home country. Thankfully and probably due to the nation of Georgia competing, and winning their opening match, I did manage to find a bar showing the england game. My friend and I were the only viewers in this open air bar, the atmosphere could not have been further from that found at home. Nonetheless putting up with the time difference to support our team was worth it. I now feel a slight allegiance to the Georgian team and after seeing some incredibly shocking results from some of the favourites in the opening matches, who knows how far they can go.

Home soil

For some reason I have felt detached from much of the recent sporting action which has taken place over the past week on this small island we call home. In theory a true supporter’s interest should not vary when sporting events change their locations yet I have been aware of my personal enthusiasm waning as the north of the country has been attracting all the attention.
Admittedly I had a busy week of work which featured a lot of driving and even included a trip north of the M4, yet I have hardly taken any notice of this year’s Tour of Britain cycle race. That could be due to the lack of a British yellow jersey or more likely it is due to the location. The last two years I have followed the Tour diligently as it passed through the Southwest and beyond. Even friends from outside of sport were talking about it yet this September I haven’t even heard my cycle club mention the race. I am sure the whole of Yorkshire has been getting behind the cyclists but I do hope the legacy of this significant international cycle event will live on across the whole country. We need to encourage people to get on their bikes and not just when a few professionals fly past their door.
Thanks to Olympic champion Mo Farah I did hear more about the Great North Run. Aside from the elite race this event is a fine example of getting thousands of the public active and engaged in sport. It really is a major highlight in the sporting calendar and always receives a phenomenal level of support, even if it is the wrong side of the M4..
All of this pales into insignificance though compared to my excitement about the forthcoming Rugby World Cup which kicks off in less than a week. The action will be coming right to our doorstep as Exeter’s Sandy Park hosts a number of the opening pool games.

Back to school

For some reason I have that back to school feeling. It is slightly unusual as I have not actually experienced the new academic year since I left university and I do not have any children or close relatives that will be starting school this week. I have spent all of August working and as I am now a retired athlete it is not even the start of pre season training. All of these factors combined should make for a standard September, one that follows on fluently from August. The only two factors I can attribute it to are the topics I love to comment on, sport and the weather.

The sudden dip in temperature over night has pushed me to crave my first bowl of porridge since springtime, I have dug out the long sleeved running tops and swapped my sandals for shoes. The sporting change has been more subtle this year with a significant overlap. Most notably, the athletic and rowing world championships were only just finishing, whilst the international rugby season had already begun. Athletics and rugby in my mind should not overlap, just as summer and winter should be distinctly separate.

I decided to embrace this unexplained back to school feeling and what better way to do that than with a new haircut. One of the most exciting features of the first day back was seeing the new 'looks'. Sadly I was never that brave and after attempting a fringe cut by my mother that turned into frizzy ringlets that lay unattractively on my forehead, I decided plain and simple was at least always safe. My hair has not been shorter than shoulder length since I was a toddler, thirty two years later I've plucked up the courage and gone for the chop. It feels invigorating, I am now ready for the new season, whenever that might be.

Dismal

Were it not for the last ten days of World Athletics I would not have realised it was August. I do love to watch sport on television but struggle in the summer as I cannot bear to miss out on the glorious weather and long hours of daylight. Considering the disappointing August we’ve just had, the British team should have had plenty of people cheering them on from the sheltered comfort of their living rooms. Those that did tune in were treated to some truly top class performances. To top off a month of great sport England women’s hockey team brought home the European title, winning on penalties over the Netherlands.
The poor weather wasn’t bad news for everyone though as there was a tourist attraction that timed its opening to perfection. As the rain poured down on queuing visitors, the artists and owners of Dismaland must have rubbed their hands with joy. The new ‘bemusement’ park influenced by Bristol artist Banksy has prided itself on being ‘the UK’s most disappointing new visitor attraction’ playing off the reputation of its location, Weston Super Mare. The opposite and alternative to Disney Land has already sold out for the next week and as we leave summer behind they can relax in the knowledge that winter is on its way.
It seems the holidaymakers in Cornwall had already had enough by the time I joined them in unexpected queues heading east on Friday afternoon. I thought I would be escaping in the right direction, before the county became full with the weekend traffic, but sadly not. Disappointingly the North Cornwall coast was not the best advert for a water-based holiday as many of the beaches were closed due to a raw sewage leakage. This is most unfortunate for a county that relies so heavily on tourism and prides itself on good water quality. It does sadden me that Southwest Water cannot deal with a bit of rain at such a crucial time of the year for the Cornish economy.

The saviour of athletics

Can two men save a sport? I am referring to the sport of athletics, it took a big step forward this week as a result of a boardroom vote and a performance on the track.
Just ahead of the start of the World Championships Lord Sebastian Coe was voted in as the new IAAF president. This is naturally a positive move for Great Britain and the sport as a whole, which seems to have been plagued by doping scandals. There have been numerous positive results cropping up as well as questions raised due to leaked blood data in recent weeks.
An old story that requires no interpretation of the facts is that of Justin Gatlin, the sprinter has already served two separate drugs bans. Until the all-important World Championship race he had remained unbeaten this season and it seemed there was only one man who could stop him – Usain Bolt. Bolt has not been in perfect form for the past two seasons and, if I were a betting girl, I would have felt uncomfortable parting with much at the bookies for a Jamaican victory. In the end the finish could not have been any closer with just one hundredth of a second separating the gold and silver medal, the clean athlete and the cheat, Jamaica and USA. Thankfully it was another victory for the six-time Olympic Champion and you could feel the world of athletics breathe a sigh of relief. The slow motion replay confirmed the crowd’s favourite had won. The question now is - can Bolt produce another winning performance when it really counts next summer in Rio?
Following on from my previous column this has been another week packed with fantastic sport. I was fortunate enough to commentate on the Modern Pentathlon European Championships in Bath. It was a slightly disappointing display by our athletes although two Olympic qualification slots and a victory for the women’s team were the silver lining at the end of a tough season.

To watch or to do?

I showed my age recently when referring to the popular Saturday night television show Blind Date. The young people I was speaking with had never heard of the late Cilla Black and the nearest thing to the infamous dating show they have known is the current Take Me Out. I am not old enough to remember Cilla Black for her singing but I do have very fond memories watching the elimination round of Blind Date as three hopeful candidates were whittled down to one. Growing up I watched a very limited amount of television; a Saturday night when I wasn't attending a swimming gala was a rare treat.

I am not sure if it is purely due to my increased awareness and interest but there seems to have been a significant rise in the variety of sport available on our screens. I like to think that even in my teens I would have chosen to watch the swimming world championships, for example, over a less educational entertainment show.

I do still find myself torn between watching the wonderful performances of our athletes and participating in sport myself, especially at this time of year. We are spoilt for choice at the moment with iPlayer, the red button and regular terrestrial all showing ever increasing amounts of top level sport. It always seems to peak towards the beginning of autumn as we see winter sports hold warm up games and the summer sports stage their big competitions.

So far August has seen the British swimmers come home with a record medal haul, the England netballers pick up bronze in the world cup and our men's cricket team secure a historic Ashes victory. Still to come we have the athletics world championships, the rugby world cup and one I cannot omit - the pentathlon European championships on our doorstep hosted by the city of Bath.

English summer

I had not intended to mention the cricket for a second time in three weeks however our historic Ashes victory was too significant to omit. Those of you who read last week's column will note I describe the English men's cricket team as "ours"; a term I would probably have avoided had the score been different.

Perhaps I was too quick to join the naysayers after the second test when we suffered such an embarrassing defeat. It looked as though we had our work cut out until England started to capitalise on their home advantage and exploit pitches that suited their style of play. England finally found their momentum and never looked back. I am just starting to plan a trip to Australia so obviously "had" to contact my friends down under - let's just say I am glad not to be visiting for another few months.

Another English pastime which is vulnerable to our unpredictable seasons is a personal favourite of mine - camping. There is little you can do to conclude a cricket match in the rain however there are a few options to improve your chances of surviving a camping trip in the UK; one of which is "glamping" (glamorous camping). Judging by the fact that my spellcheck doesn't recognise the term I can only assume it's a British invention. Who else would go camping when there is the possibility of being wet and cold? This was my first experience of so called glamping and I must admit it was lacking in what I would call glamour but certainly featured camping.

Perhaps I am being too harsh. Even though I was sleeping under canvas I did have an actual bed and there was even electricity including plugs inside the tent. All that was really missing was room service and champagne.

Chef De Mission

The sound of our national anthem can not fail to provoke that patriotic pride. As an athlete it was always a special moment to be on top of the podium reflecting on a winning performance. I have not had that opportunity for a couple of years but I have just experienced something equally special as I lead an incredibly successful young British team to the European Youth Olympic Festival in Tbilisi, Georgia.  

A few months ago I was awarded the role of Chef De Mission for TeamGB's youth team. This was a magnificent honour as well as a serious challenge. I was expected to lead a team of seventy one including forty four athletes from the age of thirteen to seventeen through their preparation and the week of competition. We were one of the smaller delegations of the fifty participating nations, only fielding athletes for five of the nine sports on offer. However we made up for that with quality, winning a total of twenty medals and finishing an impressive seventh place on the medal table.

As a member of the British Olympic Association Athletes Commission I was qualified to apply for the role, not expecting to even be called in for an interview. On accepting the honour I must admit I was slightly daunted by the challenge. I prepared myself as best as I possibly could and expected an incredibly tough eleven days in Tbilisi. Admittedly there were numerous challenges for the team but the forward planning and efficiency of TeamGB enabled the athletes to remain one hundred percent focused on the task in hand. It is only now that I can truly appreciate how much work creates a successful sporting event. I realise how spoilt I was as an athlete competing in Beijing and just how much TeamGB do behind the scenes in order to help the athletes deliver their best possible performances.  

The right direction

This week saw the start of the Women’s Ashes in Taunton and I was heartened to see the team win their opening match in style. The series has attracted a significant amount of media coverage and both games were played in front of large home crowds; something which would have been unthinkable just a few years ago. I’m sure the men’s poor performance in their second test has helped to switch some of the focus on to the women who seem to be rising to the occasion.

Whilst women’s sport has been enjoying a positive surge in media interest, outside the world of cricket two of Britain’s top male athletes have been receiving some less than favourable coverage.

My sympathy goes out to Chris Froome who has won his second Tour De France in emphatic style despite the French media making repeated and apparently unfounded accusations of doping. Only three years ago Sir Bradley Wiggins was knighted after his Olympic and Tour performances; the public and the press fell in love with him. Froome is now replicating those performances but instead of recognition in the Queen’s honours list he is dodging pots of urine and spit.

Another British athlete who is receiving lots of press coverage for the wrong reasons is double Olympic gold medallist Mo Farah. Despite putting in a stellar performance at the Anniversary Games this weekend and winning the 3000m Farah has found himself in the spotlight as a consequence of his coach, Alberto Salazar, who has been the focus of doping allegations. In Farah’s case, there have been no accusations of any wrong doing but his performances are still being scrutinised due to his association with Salazar.

I have always been of the opinion ‘innocent until proven guilty’ and believe we should support all our British athletes. Sadly it would seem that many editors don’t share this view.

Adventures in the attic

There is no such thing as a quick visit to our attic at home. The numerous boxes with piles of dust on the outside and forgotten treasures on the inside are the perfect recipe for hours of time wasting. Despite the fact that on every trip up the ladder more unwanted junk is thrown out the organised chaos refuses to diminish. I held little hope on the latest search as I was looking for an outfit I last wore more than twenty years ago; the only evidence that this was not a figment of my imagination was a faded photo in an equally dusty album.

My search was triggered by a party invite with a Western theme. I am always reluctant to purchase an off the peg, out of the packet, fancy dress outfit as to me that is plain cheating as well as being thoroughly boring. Unbelievably I found it still intact, even the moths had not discovered it. The outfit did more than just inspire me and after a little improvisation I had my costume. Admittedly the dress was now a cropped tunic and the headdress needed extending but the outfit felt more authentic than any money could have bought.

I had a few more trips down memory lane throughout the week. This time of year is not only packed full of exciting international sporting events but also the all important school sports day. I was given the honour of attending a variety of these events as a guest and there was even the threat that I was to be disguised as teacher for the staff race. Sadly I had to make do with cheering from the trackside. It is wonderful to see that this tradition lives on and schools are no longer afraid to have a competitive event in the calendar; after all it is not just sport that provides competition in life.

Bribed with an ice lolly

After four weeks of working abroad in Azerbaijan and Germany it feels great to be home. Both the European Games and Pentathlon Worlds were fun but nothing quite compares to a proper English summer; warm weather, glorious long evenings, Wimbledon and train strikes. This week, however, I am not about to embark on another tirade about the inefficiency of public transport - I want to talk about the unforeseen positive effects of train strikes.

My first week back in the UK was manic to say the least. I was working all over the country and clocked up some serious miles in the car travelling back and forth. On Thursday I had to travel up to London for a meeting at 10 am so I booked my train tickets well in advance hoping to get some work done on my journey up from home. After a terrible trip back from Germany, my heart sank when I heard on the news that both the train and underground would be on strike that day with passengers advised to expect severe delays. I got up extra early on Thursday morning to catch the earliest train possible and braced myself for the worst.

What actually happened came as a pleasant surprise. The train I caught up was relatively empty and arrived on time. Clearly many commuters had been put off by the doomsday warnings of travel Armageddon. Yes the underground was closed but I packed a pair of trainers and enjoyed a brisk walk to my meeting – it was great to see so many people out enjoying a healthy stroll to work in the nice weather. Once my meeting was over, I hurried back to the station eager to avoid rush hour and boarded the first train I could. This one wasn’t too packed either and to compensate the passengers for the ‘inconvenience’ of the industrial action we were all given free ice lollies and biscuits. My kind of strike!

Rant over

I warn you in advance that I need to get something off my chest. You might think I would be a seasoned traveller by now and take delays in my stride, I usually do. I’m not sure if it is the affect of being away for four weeks or the fact I have a job to rush back for; I am stuck in an airport and really annoyed.

I was up at three thirty this morning to catch the red eye flight from Berlin back to Heathrow; you can imagine my frustration when I received a text to inform me that my flight was delayed by thirteen hours. ‘How is this possible?’ was my initial reaction as I headed to the airport determined to get to the bottom of this and find an earlier flight home. I had a work engagement to get back for that has been in the diary for weeks and one I could not afford to miss.

It transpires that after spending the last seven days melting with temperatures hitting the high thirties and no sign of a breeze the storm we had all been hoping for arrived the evening before my flight. Consequently the aircraft I should now be flying home on is stuck in Dresden. Apparently no British Airways staff work at that airport so once the passengers had disembarked nobody was allowed back onto the airplane and even the luggage is still onboard.  

As inclement weather conditions are deemed an act of God and not the airline’s problem no alternative flights were offered. I have now bitten the bullet and purchased another flight from an airport on the other side of Berlin that will take me into Luton. I still have two more buses, two trains and a taxi before I'll be home in time to shower and rush back out the door.

Free from Azerbaijan

Plastic cutlery, paper plates and school dinner style trays are just a few of the things I will not miss from my stay at the European games. How I long for a meal with metal cutlery and a solid plate sat at a table made of something other than plastic. Usually it is the food itself that I crave after a long trip abroad, of course I am looking forward to a home cooked meal, but the idea of being able to cut my food and hold it on my fork rather than delicately scoop it up using bendy utensils is incredibly appealing.

The waste at events of this scale depresses me. I had to stop thinking about the affect we were having on landfill sites although I do understand the challenge of catering for such huge numbers. It was the bottles of water that were the biggest contributor with no refill available and the tap water unsafe to drink.

I also crave freedom; I am not referring to Azerbaijan's reputation on human rights but the tight security necessary to keep everyone safe in a multi games environment. Going out without my accreditation firmly around my neck I feel lost. It has become part of getting dressed everyday and I even had to wear it running. I have never enjoyed airport security - imagine being scanned at least four times every day just to go to work and home again. I even had my legs scanned whilst wearing shorts; literally nothing was going to get past their barriers.

I am now one step closer to freedom and three hours closer to home. I have a week in Berlin where I look forward to stepping out with more than one hundred millilitres of fluid in my bag and eating from a solid plate, although the tag might still be a necessity.

The glamour of Baku

I am acutely aware that some readers may think I live a glamorous life trotting around the globe. I do not always feel the need to dispel this myth and must admit I am incredibly fortunate to have these wonderful opportunities. On the face of it, working at the European Games in Baku sounds like another one of those trips.
The last week I have had the pleasure of commentating on numerous gold medal performances by British athletes in both triathlon and diving. TeamGB ended up dominating in the diving pool, overtaking Russia on the medal table on the closing night and the divers won a total of four European Games titles at this junior event. You can imagine how exciting this has been for a Brit to commentate on. The real challenge has been remaining neutral. The feed is going out at home on BT Sport but I am working for the international host broadcaster and we are very clearly instructed to show no bias at any point. 
The sports I am covering are all roughly linked to my background in Modern Pentathlon; triathlon being a multi sport event and diving - well I guess it is water based? For the next five days I'm remaining poolside for a busy programme of swimming; a junior event and hopefully another chance to see the Union flag on the podium. 
I do, however, have a small confession to make; this trip couldn’t actually be further from glamorous. It doesn't involve me touring around the lively city of Baku attending all the competition venues. Quite the opposite, I am spending most of the daylight hours in a small windowless box. The broadcast is all being transmitted from the International Broadcast Centre and therefore all commentators are watching and reacting to the feed from a studio doing their best to bring the event to life. 

European Games

This week I am in Baku, the capital of Azerbaijan, soaking up the spectacle of the inaugural European Games. As a commentator and journalist, I have to fully immerse myself in the event so it’s difficult to gauge, from this far flung corner of Europe, what kind of impact the competition is having at home.

The Games were conceived just three years ago, will be held every four and are vying for Olympic credibility on a European scale. The host city of Baku proudly boasts a rich cultural heritage and has undergone huge redevelopment in recent years thanks to a thriving petroleum industry. Azerbaijan seized the opportunity to showcase itself on Friday night during a spectacular opening ceremony featuring over a thousand dancers, an enormous hydraulic stage and a performance by the pop singer Lady Gaga.

A significant challenge for these games is the credibility of individual events. A few of the major sports have insisted it remains as a junior level competition so as not to detract from the European or World Championships that they organise themselves. An outsider might imagine that the major sports would be happy to take advantage of the world class facilities in Baku and pass on the administrative burden but there are other financial factors at play. For example, swimming and athletics can sell the television rights as well as gain huge sponsorship deals when owning the big meets themselves. As a result all of the aquatics disciplines are under eighteen and athletics has been graded a third tier event. On the other hand there are several ‘Road to Rio’ qualifiers throughout the seventeen days and TeamGB have already experienced success in the men’s triathlon.

As a commentator and spectator, living and breathing the event, it feels a success. It will be interesting to see how the rest of the world views Baku and its European Games.

Dark times for sport

To say it has been a depressing week for international sport is probably an understatement. Both stories had been brewing for sometime; it just took a while to gather all the evidence before the allegations made the press.

America's FBI made the first move as they arrested several FIFA board members for corruption and money laundering. The head of football’s world governing body, Sepp Blatter, went straight into damage limitation overdrive, denying knowledge of any wrongdoings within his sport. The timing was dangerously inconvenient as the news broke only days before the presidential elections were due to take place but somehow he was still re-elected. Thankfully due to mounting pressure Blatter has agreed to step down next year and I just hope that will mark the end of an era of corruption within the sport.

Athletics was the second sport to enter the firing line. Although the allegations are less concrete, the fact that Panorama has highlighted Mo Farah’s coach as a drugs cheat places an uncomfortable degree of scrutiny on the double Olympic champion. The inference was that athletics had many similarities with that of the Lance Armstrong era in cycling. I sincerely hope the accusations turn out to be false.

Cycling though, had a positive news story to end the week as Bradley Wiggins smashed the hour world record covering over fifty four kilometres in the London Velodrome on Sunday night. On another encouraging note we saw the inaugural women's sport week celebrated across the country which coincided with the start of the women's football World Cup. FIFA, despite all of its wrongdoings, has at least recognised the need for equality in the sport which the BBC has decided to follow by showing full coverage of all the games. It might be one step back but I feel we have taken two large ones forward.

I survived

It would have been easy to focus this column purely on my debut triathlon experience if there hadn't been some significantly more important sporting events taking place. First off was the finale of an exciting premiership rugby season. A couple of weeks ago it was disappointment for Exeter Chiefs as they got within touching distance of the play offs finishing tied with third and fourth but losing out on points difference. Another impressive season for the home grown Devon club and one they will take many positives from.

Westcountry hopes then lay with Bath who made it comfortably into the final positioning themselves as marginal favourites to take the title. The final clashed with my triathlon registration so I resorted to finding a sports bar in Nottingham. Sadly it was hardly worth the effort as Bath had a disappointing performance that resulted in a painful loss to Saracens. Meanwhile on the international sporting scene Great Britain won medals in triathlon and rowing whilst Jess Ennis-Hill made a her comeback ahead of Rio.

On a significantly more amateur level I completed and even enjoyed my first ever triathlon. Waking up in the wee small hours on a Sunday morning, listening to the wind and the rain beating against the window I was starting to seriously question what I was doing. Things didn't improve when I had to jump into a cold murky lake and tread water for ten minutes before we were allowed to start. I suddenly realised this challenge was larger than I first anticipated. Coming from a swimming background and being brought up on the wet hills of Dartmoor actually meant I was better prepared than most; combined with safe pacing and a strategic nutrition plan I surprised myself by winning my age group and finishing fourth woman overall.

Tri time

 At the end of last year I was looking for a new challenge and that challenge is now only a few days away - I am about to compete in my first triathlon. Several friends have gone on to compete in triathlons after retiring from modern pentathlon and they've done their best to convince me to follow. I'm also friends with some professional triathletes who haven't been quite so encouraging. All I know is: to do the sport seriously you have to have a certain mindset and I'm not so sure I have it any more. Thankfully I will be standing on that start line with one goal - to have fun.

I've had a few of tasters in the last couple of years. My first was a four hundred metre lake swim as part of a sprint relay. I followed that up a year later with a twenty five mile cycle as part of an Olympic distance relay. I've never actually ran a leg of a relay but I think that's the one part that should be the most straightforward for a novice.

Sunday I'll not only be putting all three sports together but I'll be hoping to complete a 70.3 mile course. For some unknown reason I've chosen to enter a half iron man distance triathlon for my inaugural event. I've confidently completed all of those distances in the past but usually with a day or so rest between the swim, bike and run; not a few seconds. Due to my travel schedule over the last three months training for the fifty six mile cycle has gone out of the window however I suspect the real difficulty will come when I get off the bike and try to run the half marathon course. I was after a challenge and now, due to my lack of preparation, I am guaranteed to have one.

Accross the bridge

I have just returned from the second of two contrasting but delightful trips to Wales. Admittedly I never ventured far enough to loose sight of our coast but I did pay the bridge toll so that should surely counts towards a stamp in the passport?

On the first occasion I checked into a world class golfing hotel, the Celtic Manor. My knowledge of golf is limited to what I've seen whilst running or riding around the local common land course on Whitchurch Down or visiting my Granny whilst she watched it on the television. My connection to the Celtic Manor might have seemed rather tenuous however I soon discovered they offer far more than just world class golf courses as I found myself enjoying a relaxing massage less than an hour after checking in. That said, I couldn't spend a weekend at the venue that so proudly hosted the Ryder Cup in 2010 and not have a taster session. After one hour of tuition on the driving range I was making a connection with the little white ball and already starting to experience the satisfaction of a smooth successful swing.

My second trip across the Severn was missing the same level of luxury however it made up for that with adrenaline. I, like hundreds of other young women, headed to the stereotypical destination of Cardiff for a hen party. Thankfully, unlike the opposite sex, girls tend to arrange things they hope the hen will enjoy and this one just so happened to be the adventurous type. We were quite literally in for a blast as we headed out into the choppy, chocolate coloured waters of Cardiff Bay for a high speed spin around in a RIB (Rigid Inflatable Boat). Alas I had prior commitments so missed the night on the town; that would certainly have been a whole different level of adventure.

Great to be back

It seems my friend managed to make a reasonably accurate judge of character, my new temporary lodger and I have survived the first week sharing my small flat. I must admit I was apprehensive when I returned home - exhausted after a twelve hour journey - to meet the 'stranger' in my flat. Thankfully I had nothing to worry about and fingers crossed it'll be this straightforward in a few weeks time when I have to repeat the process.

After spending most of April travelling through airports or in Eastern Europe it's great to be back in the UK for the whole of this month. Admittedly I've been away working with sport but as a result I've not been able to follow or watch any events happening back home. Last weekend was another wonderful example of Great Britain dominating the international sporting landscape as we watched titles won in tennis and equestrian.

Locally William Fox-Pitt maintained his cool to win Badminton Horse trials for the second time of his career. Lifting that eventing trophy at home for a rider is the equivalent of a tennis player winning the title at Wimbledon. Further afield and still a couple of months away from the manicured grass courts of Southwest London Andy Murray stormed to victory over rival Rafael Nadal. This isn't the first win for Murray against the spaniard but to beat him in Madrid and on clay is another significant step forward for the Scotsman's career.

There was one more significant result that I had a nail biting wait for as it wasn't until Sunday afternoon that Exeter Chiefs played their penultimate game of premiership rugby before the potential play offs. After an exciting win the dream stays alive for the Devon club and it all comes down to next Saturday to decide who makes it into the hard fought semi finals.

Blind date with a twist

I am currently indebted to a few friends and family. Last month was particularly hectic and I ended up only spending a few days in the UK. I wasn't expecting to have such a busy diary so in hindsight shouldn't have planned to renovate part of my flat and attempt to find a new lodger.

After battling a damp stain on the spare room wall for five years, I felt it was time to change tactics and get to the bottom of it. I had tried stain removers, specialist coats of paint and bleach but every time it would return; sometimes days or weeks later. As with most DIY jobs, this became larger and more time consuming than expected. The rubble from removing just one wall filled thirty fertiliser bags. Thanks to my father and a friend it has now been dry lined, re plastered and painted. I wait with baited breath but there's not yet any sign of the damp stain returning - fingers crossed the problem is solved.

The next challenge was to find another lodger to occupy the newly decorated room. I was fortunate to rent it out to a good friend for the past six months whilst he bought a new house so starting from scratch to find a replacement was daunting. Using the usual websites I've had a flow of interest but the problem has been making time for the viewings. Finding a new lodger is rather like internet dating - you both have to like each other except this time there's a building involved as well. I've had to leave this to the character judgement of my friend. I had a temporary lodger move in on Monday whilst I was away and will have a permanent one arrive in June, both of which I am yet to meet.

A double farewell

Last weekend saw two sporting heroes hang up their boots. There were emotional goodbyes for jump jockey AP McCoy's final race at Sandown Park and for endurance runner Paula Radcliffe who ended on a high at the London marathon. Both of these British athletes have dominated their individual sports for two decades and both of their chosen sports must be two of the most challenging on the human body.

AP McCoy has now held the title of Champion jump jockey for twenty consecutive years. He's won all the major jump racings titles and he's also broken most of the bones in his body. It's hard to imagine the dedication needed to return to the saddle after each of those major falls; one so severe he had to learn to walk again. There's also the constant starvation required just to make the weight for each race and during the season that's most days of the week. I had the privilege of meeting AP McCoy the year he won sports personality of the year. He may be small but I can't describe how physically and mentally tough he must be to have achieved such results.

Those of you who were lucky enough to run Sunday's London marathon are probably still feeling the after effects. If it was your first time, I'd guess you've a new found respect for the professionals who complete the whole twenty six miles at about my two hundred metre pace. It was wonderful to see the support for Paula Radcliffe as she ran her final marathon "for fun" faster than most of us can ever dream of running it. It's hard to believe she still holds the world record after twelve years in a sport that is dominated by the African nations - what an incredible career she has had.

The commitment both AP McCoy and Paula Radcliffe have shown in such tough sports is unbelievable and what an inspiration they are.