I’ve pushed the boat out and now have so much to share but I don’t have time! So I’ll just give you a bit of what I’ve jotted down, as I have to dash off for a zoom meeting, and then I’m going indoor rock climbing this evening.

I went for a long run, determined to reach the cross at the top of the mountain (those that know me will realise this is not an unusual habit of mine). Then I saw that the last bit of the circular route was blocked due to repair work on a crucial set of wooden stairs. All paths leading to these stairs were closed. Retracing my steps would have meant too many miles. I hesitated for a bit, look both ways up the empty road and pushed my way past the metal barricade. And the next one. And the one after that. As I felt that shiver of trespass, I decided that this action reflected my current attitude towards life. I am usually a rule-follower but there are times I need to squeeze past the no-entry sign to see what lies beyond; to make myself uncomfortable; to carefully pick my way down the slightly decaying staircase; to follow the scarcely discernible path made by others that have also gone off-piste.

It gave me a thrill of exhilaration as I went around the last barricade and rejoined the path that I knew. It was a great run, even though it seemed to be entirely uphill in spite of ending up where I started, and I felt something shift within me.

Last weekend I went to watch the start of the Grands Prix Cyclistes de Montréal which was just around the corner from my apartment. This is like Montreal’s one-day Tour de France, as there are top teams and top riders taking part, and the almost 220 km route takes in the hills and sights of the city. Yet it was all so accessible. I could see the racers, the cars with bikes on their hoods, the fleet of motorcycle police and the stage where the teams were being presented. it was all right in front of me, separated only by a little metal barricade. Lots of people on bikes were watching the event, and little kids ran everywhere. It was top level yet informal.

Of course I had that ‘if only’ feeling, wondering what it would feel like to be that age again, to be that fit again. The cycling part of a triathlon was always the most fun. I remember whooping through the tunnels in Madeira when I competed in the Worlds. The thrill of competition is so much more than crossing the finish line, and is obviously still alive within me.