So, once again, I’ve left it too long between updates.  Although the definition of ‘too long’ is something of an assumption on my part!

In May I was chuffed to at least be a ‘multisport’ athlete again.   I had managed to finish (albeit unspectacularly) a small local duathlon.

Wow, May 2017 and my first blog of the year.  That’s really bad.  Let’s say I’ve had other things on my mind.

Well, under my own definition, I can no longer call myself a triathlete.  It’s quite sobering.  For what it’s worth, my definition of a ‘triathlete’ is someone who has completed a triathlon, of any distance, in the last 12 months.

That’s not me.

So it hasn’t been the easiest of years.  I’ve documented struggles with balancing triathlon training against my real-world responsibilities as a husband, father and Vice President of a fast-growing company.  But lately I’ve been feeling pretty positive.  To some extent, I refound my mojo and I’ve started to (whisper it quietly) enjoy training.

My original title for this blog was “Warning: Grumpy, broken triathlete”. But it’s a fair reflection on a sad state of affairs that right now I can’t even call myself a triathlete. To be a triathlete (in my book), you actually have to race!.