Say Yes

It’s August 2022 and it has been more than a year since I have been able to sit down pain free. Despite lots of physio unfortunately my condition isn’t improving and means I spend most of my time off of my back side unless really necessary. This has made blogging pretty much impossible. However, I’m going to write this post in multiple short bursts and eventually it will make itself public. I can’t think of a better strategy right now.

This post is titled ‘Say Yes’. On 15 January 2021 my partner proposed on our 4 year anniversary and on 15 July 2022 we tied the knot in the beautiful botanical gardens in Gibraltar with 40 guests in attendance. I hope I am able to write about the big day at some point in more detail. For now you can enjoy the ceremony via this You Tube link by clicking here and hear how we planned the big day and how it went via the See Saw podcast. Episodes linked here are for Spotify but the podcast is available on other platforms too: Wedding Part 1 and Wedding Part 2

At the start of the year I decided that my motto would be ‘say yes’. Say yes to every opportunity. Say yes and you never know what will happen. Say yes even if saying no is the easier option. Thus far it has proved incredibly successful and here are a few of the highlights-

I help run the UK VI BAME Network.

I am now a fundraiser and speaker for Guide Dogs.

I sit on the Customer Advisory Group for RNIB.

I have expressed an interest in becoming a mentor for Look.

I worked behind the scenes as a runner on the Winter Paralympics with Whisper TV.

I am a co-host of the See Saw podcast.

I competed for Nottingham Goalball and although we came last I managed to score 2 goals.

After 5 years out with injury I raced for the first time.

I went to watch the athletics at the Commonwealths in Birmingham.

I am going to try blind football.

Again like my wedding I hope I am able to write about the above in more detail at some point. If not at least I have documented something for 2022.

Update. It’s now December 2022. I still can’t sit down pain free despite having a steroid injection in October. In fact that injection was a terrible disaster leaving me in absolute agony with pins and needles for weeks. Prior to the injection I did get to go and play blind football for a few weeks and love it. I have also been accepted to become a Look mentor with the training commencing in February.

I managed to escape the freezing temperatures earlier this month and enjoyed a mini-moon in Lanzarote. Now I want to holiday every winter! I would like to say it was a restful break, only I found myself walking 26k 2 days in a row! There was time for sunbathing too.

2023 isn’t going to start well with yet another eye operation scheduled for January. However, I’m looking forward to getting back into running and playing some more blind football. Not being able to sit down is a literal nightmare. Thankfully I am still able to be active.

2023 is going to be eventful for other reasons too. I would like to say I’ll be able to blog about it all but unless my chronic pain decides to disappear it’s highly un likely. You can always follow me on my socials @selinalitt on Twitter or listen to me on the See Saw podcast which is available on all good podcast platforms.

For now I hope everyone is coping with the cost of living crisis and the endless amount of germs flying around at the moment. Wishing you a healthy, happy and prosperous 2023!

PS the pyjamas for the second half of this blog post are the Grinch! I confess I have never seen the film. The motto I believe is even the baddest of things can turn good.

Calvin

The majority of the following was drafted back in April when it was all fresh in my mind. I have found it hard to come back and finish the post but knew it needed to be written and published so I can commemorate Calvin. I have been quite detailed as it is important for me to remember Calvin’s final days. I would recommend skimming through some parts.

Perhaps one of the saddest blog posts I will ever have to write. My beautiful, gorgeous, funny, loving, mischievous, forever hungry and happy Calvin passed away on Friday 16 April at 3:24am. He was 13 years and 4 weeks old. I always knew the day would come and dreaded it for years. Still I wasn’t prepared for the speed it happened.

I’m going to be honest. A couple of weeks prior to his death it was suspected that Calvin had picked up some weed on our walk. It might have been in the foil I prised from his mouth on the way to the park or it could have been at the park itself. I only realised something was amiss when I went to give him dinner. He knocked his Kong wobbler a couple of times with his paw but then gave up. I transferred the food to a bowl which he ate very tentatively. I then went to check on him when he swayed in my arms before collapsing to the ground. At that point I thought that was it, he was gone. He had to be carried into the car and upon arriving at the vets they diagnosed his stoned condition. He spent a night in the vet hospital but seemed in good spirits on his return. I was beyond mortified yet so relieved that this wasn’t it. Little did I know it was the warm up for what was to come.

Calvin returned from hospital on Easter Saturday. On Easter Monday he couldn’t get up the stairs prior to bed. He had slipped on the stairs a little earlier in the day so I suspected he might have injured himself. Nevertheless he just kept trying, not making it further than the first step. He was getting really distressed. I came and sat with him downstairs for a while and he went to his bed in the living room. I thought he was settled but as soon as I got up to return to bed he began trying the stairs again. In the end I gave him a few treats and closed the door on him in the living room so he would stop trying.

On Tuesday night the same happened again. He couldn’t get up the stairs despite trying. This time I had a frozen Kong ready and shut him in the living room again. He was very settled in bed when I came down the following morning. On Wednesday he didn’t even attempt the stairs. however, we were missing his company and so my partner picked him up and brought him upstairs. All 38kg of him. Calvin was delighted and we continued to do this on the following nights. On Thursday I contacted the vets to make an appointment as he obviously wasn’t back to his usual self since coming back from hospital and if I knew the vets were open on Good Friday I would have already booked him in for a check-up as I was concerned about him gagging on occasion. At this point he had been doing it for around 3 weeks on and off.

We went to the vets on the Monday where the vet advised that the hospital stay must have exacerbated his arthritis and the cough was most likely due to old age. A common condition called paralysis of the larynx. His lungs seemed clear, temperature fine and bloods that had been taken whilst in hospital were clear. I was pleased that it was nothing serious. That evening he left some of his food in his Kong wobbler and walked off to get a drink. I thought he had just not realised there were a few bits of kibble left and gave him the rest. On Tuesday morning he took a split second to start eating his breakfast and in the evening he again left his Kong wobbler with some kibble inside. By this point I was worried and took him back to the vets that evening.

We saw a different vet who informed me that his lungs sounded harsh and he had a slight temperature. he had been quieter than normal in the day and seemed subdued. She booked him in for tests the following day. Bloods and chest x-ray. We took Calvin for a small trot around the fields after the appointment and he seemed to brighten up. He happily explored and did his usual nudging at my pocket for treats. I didn’t know that would be our final venture.

That night he wouldn’t settle. He was pacing, coughing and drinking lots of water. I couldn’t sleep listening to him. Around 2am I took him out for a busy. He ran into the garden and I heard he had a poorly tummy. I knew he wouldn’t be able to make it back up the stairs and so I stayed on the sofa in case he needed to go out again. He was much more settled for the rest of the night. I’m not sure why he didn’t tell me he needed a busy before, he usually communicated well with me.

On Wednesday I received the worst possible news. Cancer. The chest x-ray showed cancer in the lungs and it was likely this was secondary. A subsequent ultra sound showed cancer in his liver and spleen too. Calvin must have been living with cancer for months. Not displaying any signs, merrily getting on with and enjoying life. Again his bloods were somehow clear. I was given some medication which was hoped would liven him back up for a while. Once he was feeling a bit better we wanted to take him to some of his favourite places and have some fun. Unfortunately this didn’t happen.

When we collected him from the vets he greeted me with his usual waggy tail and I was pleased and confident that I had made the right decision to take him home and not have him put to sleep there and then. I had decided I would sleep downstairs for the foreseeable future as the new medication would increase thirst and therefore the need to spend. Calvin slept pretty well until the early hours before struggling with his cough. He had been given some bland food to help with his tummy and happily ate it for breakfast. I gave him his new medication but was advised it would take a couple of days to kick in. Calvin appeared quite lethargic through the day, I put this down to the sedation he had to have the day before for the scans. He ate his second and third meals eagerly.

I had to go out for a couple of hours in the late afternoon. Calvin was home with my partner and Riley and had mostly been sleeping. When I came home Calvin mustered up a wag for me and my partner commented that he would only wag for me now. This was around 6pm. At 8:30pm I fed Calvin his final meal. He didn’t come over to eat it. Instead I took the bowl to him and he ate it lying down. He had deteriorated so rapidly. I was hopeful the medication I gave him after the meal would help somewhat.

Not long after Calvin seemed to really struggle with his cough. It was torturous to watch. I called the out of hours vets and asked if someone could come out. They couldn’t, advising that he would need to be brought in. I didn’t particularly appreciate the receptionists tone and decided to hold off. Although Calvin wasn’t due his next medication until the morning at about 11pm I gave him it anyway. I was desperate for him to feel more comfortable and decided 16 hours between doses was adequate. Perhaps it did help a tiny bit as he seemed to fall asleep all be it lightly.

At around 1.30am he shot up and indicated that he needed a busy. I let him out in the garden and he did his business. From then on he was back to struggling with his cough and panting. I felt awful for him. So helpless. Just after 2am I couldn’t bear watching him suffer any longer. I really wanted to wait for our local vets to open at 8am but time was passing so slowly. My partner asked me what I wanted to do and I made the decision I thought I would never have the strength to make. It was time to let Calvin go. I really wish there was another way. Some medication I could give him to ease his pain and watch him slip away peacefully in his sleep. This is not how I wanted it to end.

I called the out of hours vets and advised them that we would be coming in. the next task was getting Calvin in the car. My partner put the quilt in the boot so he would be comfortable. Thankfully Calvin was able to walk to the car but then kept moving away deciding against being lifted. So we scrapped that idea and I managed to lure him into the front footwell with me where he would usually sit.

On arrival at the vets Calvin point blank refused to get out of the car. This made me smile. he lay curled up quite content and cosy in the spot. After some minutes of Calvin making me look like a muppet as I turned on my enthusiastic high pitched doggy voice my partner called for help. One of the nurse’s came out who knew Calvin from his previous hospital stay. He couldn’t hide his shock at Calvin’s rapid deterioration and couldn’t get over that his bloods were clear. I turned on my positive doggy voice again and failed once more to urge Calvin out of the car. The nurse stepped in and managed to succeed by manoeuvring him a bit.

The nurse took Calvin in and we waited in the waiting room until everything was set up. I desperately wanted to be strong for Calvin in his final moments. I spoke continuously to him and gave him a final fish treat which to my relief he accepted in true Labrador style. He was sat up and panted. He was meant to get sleepy and slide to the floor. I knew my determined boy would fight and resist for as long as possible. This meant rather than slide he practically dropped to the floor and I tried to break his fall. I will never forget his last gasp. Then the stillness. No rise and fall of the body. Just nothing. We were able to stay with him for a while and I stroked and talked to him. I lowered my face mask and left him with a snotty kiss on his head.

I knew I didn’t want Calvin cremated. I am Muslim and don’t believe in cremation. I didn’t realise it was rare for animals not to be cremated. Thankfully there is a pet cemetery close to Melton Mowbray called Buena Vista that do dog burials. The vets kept Calvin in a cool room to preserve his body until Buena Vista could collect him.

I am so grateful that organising Calvin’s funeral was super simple. I called Buena Vista later that morning and they said they would collect Calvin in the next couple of hours. It is more pricy to bury an animal than have them cremated but it is honestly the better option in my opinion.

Calvin’s funeral took place on Monday 19 April. Exactly one month after his 13th birthday. It was a glorious sunny day and I was excited to see Calvin again. That might sound crazy but I really was. I missed him so much and I’m glad that my last time with him wasn’t in traumatic circumstances. We arrived at Buena Vista around 11.30am and was greeted by the gardener who would assist with the burial. Calvin was already in his casquette curled peacefully inside. He was surrounded by flowers. I was able to stroke him and he felt groomed. Silky and soft to the touch. I made sure I would remember his strong body. I tucked his favourite blanket around him and also gave him his Barks and Spencer plush C bone that I bought him for Christmas that was remarkably still intact, squeak and all. Riley was present and gave his big brother a cheeky lick. Before the casquette was closed I stroked Calvin’s velvet ear one final time.

I am keen to ensure Calvin’s legacy lives on and have created a tribute fund in aid of Guide Dogs in his memory. I was touched by the generous donations by friends, family and acquaintances when I shared that I would like to raise £500 so a specially inscribed brick can be placed at the path of support and remembrance at the National Guide Dog centre in Leamington Spa, the town where his Guide Dog journey began. The target was reached in June but unfortunately due to the pandemic the brick is still yet to be laid. I’m really hoping it is placed before his birthday. I only had 18 characters with spaces to honour his memory. The brick will read: A Guiding Star, Calvin 2008-21.

It is going to take a long time but my next goal is to raise a minimum of £2500 to name a future Guide Dog puppy Calvin. When the climate is better I plan on holding events to help reach the target and I personally donate a little something each month. The average cost of a Guide Dog is £55,000. I’m never going to be able to payback that but will do what I can for a dog that changed my life for the better.

I get comfort from visiting Calvin as often as I can. He has a lovely spot underneath a willow tree. There is so much that I miss about Calvin and daily remember his affection and quirks. For someone who never liked dogs Calvin made sure he stole my heart.

If you would like to visit Calvin’s tribute fund you can do so by clicking here. There are lots of photos all with image descriptions when you click into them. There are also a few videos and when I donate I share memories. If you feel able it would be amazing if you could donate. I can picture Calvin’s bright eyes and waggy tail thanking you. He really was a special boy that deserves to be remembered.

Below are a selection of messages people sent me when they heard the news. There are some wonderful ones on his tribute fund too.

‘He really has had a great life with you, you’ve been so dedicated to him’

‘he was a brilliant dog, we will all miss him’

’poor Calvin but what a dog he was’

‘no way…loved that dog’

‘he was a legend, loved by all’

‘Calvin was very memorable’

‘he will never be forgotten, I feel that in my heart and he wasn’t even mine’

‘Calvin had a great life and we were very lucky to have him in the family. He was the best friend you could have’

‘he was such a lovely dog and had so much character’

‘RIP dear Calvin…it’s down to you that he was happy right to the end’

‘oh bless him, you gave him a lovely life’

‘he will leave a huge hole in your heart’

‘He was a really lovely cheeky boy and you have some fantastic funny memories to cherish’

‘he was such a cheeky character’

‘he was a character indeed. I’m sure you are certainly not short of love and smiles when you think of him’

Guide Dog Calvin, 19 March 2008 - 16April 2021. Thanks for the memories, we had the best adventure.

Broken Body

This blog post will reveal why I haven’t been able to literally sit down to write. 2021 has proven an immensely difficult year for my body.

It all kicked off in January. At the start of the year I felt run down. I had this weird lactic sensation in my legs. They felt so heavy all day without even exercising. Generally I felt tired and had bouts of nausea. I just didn’t feel right. After the symptoms didn’t ease after a week or so I did a PCR test suspecting covid as back then people were reporting all sorts of odd symptoms. The test came back negative and so I got advice from my doctor. They ran a blood test and everything except having high levels of B12 came back normal. The doctor told me I probably just had a virus and to wait it out. It wasn’t until mid-February that I began to feel better. It was the strangest illness that I thought would never end and I’m so thankful it did.

In March I had my first covid vaccine. It knocked me for six and I then spent another couple of weeks feeling poorly. People told me it must be my immune system working making amazing anti-bodies.

In April my heart shattered into a thousand pieces as Calvin my best friend and retired Guide Dog passed away at the age of 13. I don’t think I will ever recover from the grief. Even now 8 months on I will spontaneously burst into tears at the mention or thought of him.

In May I had my second vaccine. I wasn’t as poorly this time so apparently my immune system had worked its magic. However, I still felt rubbish for a few days. At least it wasn’t as bad as having covid itself.

In July just a week before I was due to race for the first time since 2017 I sustained a tight hamstring after a great training session. I didn’t think much of it at the time. The following day I couldn’t stretch my leg out straight it was that tight and painful. My guide runner did a great job of stretching it out before my gym session but I was left with a tightness in my glute. An actual pain in the bum!

Before I could treat my glute I was struck down with covid thanks to catching it in London when I attended the final of Euro 2020 at Wembley. After being surrounded by thousands of people for hours on end I knew my chances of catching the virus were high. I did hope that the vaccine would protect me. perhaps it did to an extent as I don’t appear to have long covid. Nevertheless, I was really poorly for a good couple of weeks. I lost my sense of taste and smell, had a horrible cough, sneezed constantly, had a fever for a couple of days and generally felt horrific. My partner who attended the Euros with me and has not been vaccinated showed no symptoms. Whilst somewhat envious of this, I was pleased to have someone to look after me.

Once recovered from covid I found although 3 weeks on I still had a pain in my glute. I saw a physio who was recommended by a friend and was informed I had a tight piriformis which is a muscle found in the glute. I was advised to rehab, have lots of massages and stretch.

6 weeks later I was in no better condition pain wise yet now possessed reasonably strong glutes and core. I went to the physio at my GP who recommended I saw a sports doctor. He thought an injection would solve the issue. It was time to claim on my Bupa once more. Something I was reluctant to do after my premium shot up after my knee surgery in 2019. I felt I had no other option.

The sports doctor seemed baffled and sent me for an MRI scan for my back and pelvis. I was hopeful the MRI would give me some answers. The answer was so unexpected. The scan showed that there was nothing wrong with me other than some mild arthritis. I was in agony whenever I sat down for prolonged periods but supposedly nothing was causing the pain. No trapped nerves, no inflammation, no sign of previous trauma.

The sports doctor referred me to a physio that he recommended. He said he doesn’t deny that I’m experiencing pain and felt neural flossing would be a benefit to me. to date I have seen the physio 3 times where a thorough examination was performed and flossing exercises given. Nothing has changed. The pain remains. In the New Year I will see the physio’s colleague for a second opinion as he is lost with what to do next.

If living with daily pain wasn’t bad enough at the beginning of December I picked up a nasty cold that kept me at home for a week and a couple of weeks ago I had eye surgery.

When I attended Moorfields for a routine appointment in October I never expected anything to be newly wrong with my eye. I was suffering with the usual pain and have simply accepted that. It was a shock when they told me the rubber band I had fitted in my eye at the age of two to help my eye grow had decided to partially expose itself.

They had no choice but to operate as they calmly told mee if it got infected it could be fatal. They felt it would be a quick and easy procedure that could be done with local anaesthetic. I told them I had trouble with local once before as my eye wouldn’t numb. The head of the clinic insisted it would be fine. It was far from fine.

I will try and spare everyone the traumatic details. Long story short my eye wouldn’t numb, so they numbed half of my face and hoped for the best. Only this didn’t seem to do the job either. I really wanted them to do the surgery after the hell I was going through. They managed to cut some of the exposed band. I will have to go back for more surgery so they can finish the procedure under general. I craved so much sugar afterwards. I was so shaken up.

Thankfully my eye seems to be healing well. I didn’t verbalise to anyone before the operation but I was terrified of losing my light perception. The days and hours leading up to the surgery I kept making sure I looked at every light I could to savour the moment in case it would be the last time. I have probably had close to 30 eye surgeries, I stopped counting after 20. I really don’t know how many more my eye can take before totally giving up on me.

To round the year off I have managed to sprain my ankle. Yesterday on an uneven bit of pavement when out walking Riley. You couldn’t make this stuff up!

Anyway, as you can see I’ve really not had a very healthy year in spite of being relatively fit and eating healthily. Whilst I have had a difficult time of it I am aware there are others who have it much worse and I have massive respect for everyone who has to be resilient in life.

Riley although only three has also had a few health problems this year. He had to have a tooth out as he broke one at some point chewing on something he shouldn’t no doubt. He then needed steroids on his leg as it got infected where they shaved him for the cannula. He then had some random swelling on one of his back legs that required anti-inflammatories. Finally he has finished the year with his first fatty lump. I’m really gutted about this as I’ve been extra careful this time to ensure he stays at a good body weight. I’m sure Calvin was about five when he got his first lump. I know Labradors are prone to them.

I’m hoping to be much healthier next year. Although if my body has other ideas I will try to remain in good spirits! I think I’m learning you can’t plan for life, you just have to go with the flow and hope for the best.

Working Woes

It’s time to revive my blog. It’s scary to think this is my first post of the year. To be honest this year is proving to be incredibly challenging and it’s about time I shared it all.

I have got so many woes to write about. This post will focus on my struggle to find secure employment. For years now I have been happily floating along with two jobs that are 0 hour contracts. Whilst the work has never been guaranteed, in general I have worked on a weekly basis and have been comfortable financially.

Last year I was furloughed by one job and the other job continued to provide regular work. This year the story has been somewhat different. On average I have been working three days per month! I am good at budgeting and have managed to keep on top of my bills but the situation is so stressful and there is no sign of it ever improving. When I do get work it is often at very short notice, it’s not uncommon to be asked if I’m free in the next half an hour. The majority of the time I am able to drop everything. When this isn’t possible I chastise myself for being busy and missing out on essential income. I’m fearful of making plans in case I’m asked to work.

All year I have actively been applying for jobs and to date have been offered three interviews. The first interview I couldn’t attend as I was asked to work and they couldn’t move the interview date. The second interview was for the Step Up to Social Work programme and I worked so hard on my application. However, after completing multiple assessments they informed me on my birthday that I hadn’t been successful. It was a kick in the teeth but I brushed myself off and applied for a job at a sight loss charity that I really liked the look of. Ever committed I made sure I submitted a strong application. Despite receiving glowing feedback I received another rejection. It was too much, my confidence was crushed and pride damaged.

How many times can a person pick themselves back up? If you’re me there is no limit. I had a big ugly cry and invited the smallest violin to play the saddest tune at my pity party. This year I feel like I’m failing. Failing at everything. Yet I know that failure doesn’t have to be forever and whilst I didn’t get this latest job I am proud of my application. That’s why I’m going to share it. I enjoyed working on it. Spoiler alert, the following does mention some of my other woes!

First I had to send my CV, cover letter and an audio presentation that lasted no longer than three minutes. The presentation needed to talk about a mentor in my life, how we met and how they have helped me. The written version is printed below. However, you can find the actual audio version on my Face Book page for this blog ‘Insight Out’. Skip pass the text if you have already listened to the audio to see what the interview assessment entailed.

Start presentation

Productivity breeds success. That’s the motto of my mentor, friend and guide runner Ryan Asquith. My name is Selina Litt and I am a T11 visually impaired 100m sprinter.

For as long as I can remember I have loved sport and in particular running. I volunteered for the cross country team at primary school and joined an athletics club at the age of 11. However, this was short lived because I struggled to keep up with my peers due to my partial vision at the time.

In my late teens, now completely blind I joined an athletics club specifically for the disabled and in 2009 started competing. Like many I was excited about London 2012 and dreamed of racing at the games. Unfortunately I am not naturally talented and initially I ran around 17 seconds over 100m.

By 2011 I had reduced my time to 15 seconds and trained with Charnwood AC. I was on the lookout for a new guide runner that could help me progress further when I was approached by Lincoln Asquith, former GB sprinter and guide runner. He said I could run with his son Ryan providing he could coach us. Little did Lincoln know I wanted him to coach me for years. Nevertheless, I knew nothing about Ryan.

In late 2011 Ryan and I started training together 4 times per week. Two track sessions and 2 gym sessions. A trend that would continue for the next 10 years.

Over the last decade Ryan has advised, motivated and emotionally supported me. He has guided me both physically and mentally so that I can reach my goals.

He has advised me on nutrition, technique and recovery. Motivated me to train when the weather has been miserable and when I’ve felt tired. He has emotionally supported me through injury and poor performances.

He has guided me to the T11 60m indoor British record, 5th place at the Glasgow 2014 Commonwealth Games, a 13.52 seconds 100m PB and a 3rd place ranking in Europe in 2017. The same year I sustained a career threatening injury.

I STILL HAVE DREAMS of competing at a Paralympic Games despite spending the last few years rehabilitating. For as long as I have Ryan by my side I believe I can achieve. Productivity breeds success…

End presentation

At interview stage I had a regular question and answer session that was followed by a written task. I had twenty minutes to write about ‘a perfect day’ and email the response back to them. It had to be written over three paragraphs. Considering how many hours it takes me to write these blog posts, it’s a miracle I managed to write more than a sentence! In all seriousness writing the below made my eyes prick with tears, it really was the most perfect of days.

Start text

About a year ago I had the most perfect day when my partner and I travelled to Old Hunstanton with my retired Guide Dog Calvin and current Guide Dog Riley. It was the first time we had holidayed as a four and I felt like I had my own little family.

Surprising for England the sun was shining and I found myself in a t-shirt and shorts on the beach, in Britain! I love the beach, listening to the soothing sounds of the waves, feeling the sand between my toes and this time listening to the merry jingle of Calvin and Riley’s bells on their collars as they played happily whilst my partner and I walked hand in hand.

I will always treasure that day on the beach as little did I know that would be our one and only holiday together as a four. Calvin sadly passed away earlier this year. I’m so pleased we could make that magical memory before he passed. Despite being twelve and a half at the time I’ll never forget him jumping up on me to say thank you for bringing him to the beach, our shared love.

End text

Of course Calvin will have his own blog post before the year is out. I have written most of it but every time I go back to it I’m in bits. I will find the strength. And yes I do seem to be crying a hell of a lot this year. I never used to be a crier at all. Testing times.

Anyway, the job hunt continues. I’m going to put it out there, if anyone wants to offer me part-time work then don’t be afraid to contact me. I am more than happy to send you a copy of my CV.

2020 What A Year

2020 a year like no other. A year we never could have predicted or prepared for. A year that has tested our ability to adapt and conform. A year where we have all had to be resilient.

Many people have lost loved ones and in this respect I find myself grateful that to date my personal friends and family have either remained healthy or recovered well from the virus. When reflecting on the last 12 months it is easy to recall and dwell on the struggles. However, I want to take this opportunity to focus on the good.

In January Calvin put up his paws and started life as a retired Guide Dog. For 5 weeks my life was put on hold whilst I trained with new boy Riley. In February we qualified as a partnership. Prior to the first lockdown on Tuesday 24th March, no doubt a quiz question of the future I managed to partake in some fun activities. Afternoon teas, charity quizzes, Norrie Disease family day, Crufts and a trip to the theatre to see The Book of Mormon.

Then the pause button was pressed on normality. The world became a frightful place. In spite of this new discoveries were made. Zoom. What a magical concept. I started a mindfulness course with Look and could still connect with my Book Club.

In April I relished one of my jobs becoming home based saving me the stress of travelling to Coventry and Warwickshire. I was fortunate that my other job put me on furlough meaning I was financially secure.

Summer came early allowing for countless garden days and I enjoyed running solo at my local cricket pitch. The gym and shops opened in time for my birthday in July. Whilst in August we took advantage of eat out to help out and managed to physically meet up with friends for a BBQ.

The highlight of September was a night away in Old Hunstanton. I was on the beach in shorts in Britain! Calvin and Riley had the best time playing on the beach. Calvin was puppy walked by the sea and he totally forgot his 12 and a half years of age as he sprinted around and jumped on me to thank me for bringing him. Riley learnt the hard way that drinking sea water isn’t a good idea as he spectacularly spewed up at dinner. Thankfully it was a dog friendly hotel. I’m sure he wasn’t the first pup to throw up and I’m sure he won’t be the last. There was something quite special having both of my boys with me at dinner and breakfast in the hotel. I did feel pretty smug as they both behaved impeccably compared to the other canine guests.

Life has become more restrictive again in the final few months of the year. I haven’t been allowed to train at Loughborough’s world class athletics facilities throughout the pandemic. Instead I have been running at a local track that is far from luxurious. Nevertheless, I have been running. Running on a track. Running bends. Running pain free. I feel a tad of emotion just writing that. After getting injured in 2017 and subsequent knee surgery last year I always hoped but never truly knew that it would be possible for me to run again on the track. I genuinely treasure every step.

As the year draws to a close it is evident that 2020 has been very different. Personally it has caused me to reassess my values and what is important in life. We have to take the good from the bad and control what we can. Who knows what 2021 will bring…

Wishing everyone a happy and healthier new year.

British Cycling

It’s a sunny Saturday in September. The perfect opportunity to relax in the garden and reflect on my experience at the British Cycling talent ID weekend I attended last month.

We all know I am athletics obsessed. You only have to check who I follow on Twitter to learn I am an avid fan. Whilst injury has prevented me from competing in over 3 years, my commitment to the sport still remains.

Thus when British Cycling advertised their search for a female visually impaired stoker for the Tokyo Paralympics back in June, my immediate response was dismissive. For years people have been encouraging me to try cycling and for years I have whistled the same tune, ‘no I love athletics.’

Although initially reluctant to put myself forward, the amount of messages I received from different people urging me to go for it started to get my cogs whirling. I had nothing to lose, it didn’t mean I had to quit athletics, wouldn’t it be worth finally finding out if it was a sport that I could excel at. After all I have seen multiple athletes transition from athletics to cycling. There must be something good about it.

With gyms closed and no access to a bike it wasn’t as if I could prepare myself for the weekend as I would have liked. In truth during lockdown my motivation and ability to train was proving a challenge. Nevertheless, the prospect of the weekend marginally improved my drive to exercise.

Prior to the weekend I was informed there would be 3 bike tests. 3 x 6 second sprints, a 1 minute effort and a 3 minute effort. Being a sprinter I was looking forward to the 6 second sprints and the others not so much. Based on the results from the tests on the Sunday we would be split into 3 groups that would indicate if we had Tokyo potential, Paris potential or currently lacked potential. The thought of being placed in the final group somewhat terrified me. Despite having nothing to lose that result would be a slap in the face.

The talent ID weekend was being held in Manchester. Thankfully I didn’t need to arrive until the afternoon meaning it wasn’t a too early start. To give you some context, I have never been to a velodrome, never worn cycling shoes or ridden a turbo bike. This caused some apprehension. My mum travelled up with me and was soon ushered away to the stands leaving me alone with the British Cycling staff and the other hopefuls. Being left without direct support also unnerved me.

Various British Cycling people came over to chat and help me set up. However, as soon as they came over it wasn’t long before they disappeared again. I didn’t fully understand how the gears worked on the bike, the person helping me didn’t fully understand I couldn’t see when they told me to push the black leaver. I asked if they could sort the gears for me, I assumed they needed to be set on a specific setting anyway. I was left to warm up and was told after 5 minutes had past to pick up the speed. Not being able to see the timer of course I had no idea when it was time to change up and so just turned over gently.

For the actual test part we were all allocated an individual. For the 6 second sprints we had to go from a static start. I had no clue what position my pedals should be in to get the best start. On my first sprint the bike moved everywhere to my surprise. That kind of thing never happens with the bikes in the gym. My second sprint felt better and the power output reflected this. My final sprint was better again and my competitiveness that had been lying dormant for so long began to trigger. I vocalised that I could do so much more. This led them to letting me have a fourth attempt where I added another 40 odd to my power output. I could see my potential, I hoped they could too.

The person helping me with my bike clicked the gears for me before the 1 minute effort began. Fuelled up from the sprints I was ready to go all out. I was then stunned when I pushed down on the pedals to discover I could hardly turnover. The resistance was stupidly tough. I assumed everyone was on the same resistance and pushed on as best I could. The desire to stop was overwhelming. However, I knew not finishing the effort would be embarrassing. So I kept repeating to myself ‘don’t’ stop’. When I got off the bike my left knee was throbbing and I had some soreness near my right knee that when I got home I found was swollen. The effort had flared up an old injury and caused another with the 3 minute effort still to go.

I made it clear for the 3 minute attempt that I would not be having the resistance that high. Feelings of frustration flooded me. My legs were on fire. The 3 minute effort actually turned out to be a 3 minute 30 second effort. They take your best 3 minutes from the set time. I managed it relatively well but all things considered knew it wouldn’t be amazing. After the tests had been completed I learnt that the gears could have been set to whatever you wished. This infuriated me even more. As a totally blind person who had never used a turbo bike before it wasn’t explained to me enough how to set the gears and know what they were set on. It wasn’t made apparent before the tests that we could choose the setting. I thought for it to be fair everyone would have to be on the same setting.

I returned home that night and wasn’t enthusiastic about returning in the morning. I knew my ability hadn’t been showcased. My visual impairment hadn’t been understood. All of the females attending the talent ID weekend had a visual impairment but having no useful vision left me in a minority. In athletics there are 3 classifications for the visually impaired, in cycling the visually impaired are altogether.

It was an early start on Sunday to get back to Manchester. The only real reason I was returning was to cycle on the velodrome to say I have done it. It was becoming apparent that I was unlikely to continue with cycling in the future. All of the hopefuls were grouped together to find out which group they would be in. it was like waiting for the X Factor results. They decided to read out group A and B together first then we would be split again. Names started to be read out and I was relieved to hear mine. They had thankfully acknowledged I have some kind of potential.

For a moment I dared to believe that I would be put in group A. it quickly became obvious I hadn’t. in fact my name was bottom of the group B list. I don’t know if names were in any particular order yet it appeared I had just scraped through. I then had to sit and wait for hours before I was given 10 minutes on the velodrome with a pilot. I’m not going to lie I did enjoy my brief time on the back of the tandem. However, the vibes I was getting from the British Cycling staff told me blatantly that I was not on their radar for the future.

The following week I received a call from British Cycling confirming that they were not interested in me at this time. It was no surprise. I didn’t hesitate in providing my feedback when prompted. They did comment that my 6 second sprints ranked me quite highly. Initially following the weekend I was of the firm belief that me and cycling were done. Having time to think about it all the experience was extremely beneficial. It has reignited my competitive spirit. My heart still lies with athletics. Yet I am struggling to accept that British Cycling didn’t get to witness my capability. I want to prove I have potential, prove I can, prove them wrong.

18 visually impaired females attended the talent ID weekend. British Cycling have chosen 3 to progress to the next stage. It was brilliant to see so many visually impaired females participating in sport.

I'm Back

I just don’t understand myself sometimes. I set myself a challenge of writing 26 blog posts over 26 days and have no trouble in completing the task. In fact it reminds me how much I enjoy blogging and how beneficial I find it. So why have I failed to blog in over 3 months? I am a mystery to myself.

The last 3 months feel like a bit of a blur. The whole year is drifting by. Last month I celebrated my 32nd birthday. There is something reassuring about being an even number once more. We went for a family walk around Burbage Common in the morning. This was then followed by a trip to Fosse Shopping Park. It was the first day it had reopened after we had been put back in lockdown for a second time. It was my first visit to any kind of retail provider in months. Riley squealed with delight when we pulled up. The boy adores shopping. I didn’t actually buy anything and found I was afraid to touch items to inspect them. Continuing the first in a few months theme, I had a Chinese takeaway for dinner. In normal circumstances the day would have been classed as ordinary. However, we all know the new normal is so far removed from what was everyday life.

I am not going to ramble on too much in this post. I know what I want my next blog to be about and hope to bring it to you in less than 3 months’ time! I promise it will be more interesting than this post.