What happened in 2012

So, whilst 2012 was a bumper year for sport in London, with the Olympics and Wimblebobs and such, it was not so much for me. I must have been doing some occasional jogging, I remember buying new trainers after a break-up (oh yes, the old “I’ll show him what he’s missing” trick, in my lycraed thighs and shiny new NewBalancers) but apart from that, my 2012 was a whirlwind of holidays and four months off work! I’d made a resolution that year to go on a holiday every month, kind of a precursor to this year’s race per month and with distinctly more relaxation in mind. I was also pretty unhappy with my job, worried about my unwell dad and taking time out of life to figure what I wanted to do and where I wanted to be.
First I went to Cumbria, for a week at my friend’s farm- I lived with Kate for a year whilst we were both at the University of Glasgow, and her parents run a wonderful B&B in the hills near Hadrian’s Wall. Over the years, Grindon Farm has become a bit of a personal retreat for me when London gets too much and Scotland is too far away. A few days in the countryside, feeding the sheep and walking the dogs is a good cure for many of life’s ailments and I can highly recommend a stay at this wonderful spot.
February found me in Marrakech and I went to Barcelona for my birthday in March, before spending the best part of a month in Cape Town in April. At the time I was flirting the idea of moving to South Africa and working as nurse out there for a year or two. I fell in love with the scenery, the relaxed pace, the wine farms and the sunshine, but not so much with the gated-communities, lack of public transport and the small but constant threat of danger. What really pushed me homeward however was my wonderful Dad, whom was quite unwell at the time and I decided a twelve hour flight was too far away for the time being. It wasn’t a complete waste of a trip though, as the work I’d been doing in an HIV clinic there inspired me to pursue a job in the same specialty when I knew I couldn’t do intensive care nursing anymore.
South Africa was followed by South Wales, and then a week in Scotland. July was a bit of a cheat, a sort of holiday, but sort of work too. I was incredibly lucky to be given a job working at the Olympics Games, looking after the health and welfare of the NBC television team from the USA. Presented with an access-all-areas pass, a window to showbiz and some very nice rota-patterns, I decided the best thing to do was to take unpaid leave from my real job and spend a few weeks running around after American celebrities I didn’t recognise, watching as much live sport as I could manage and generally eating/sleeping/breathing London2012. Giddy with gold medal fever (medals!), I found myself agreeing to an eighteen hour road-trip from London to the Isle of Skye the next month.
Thankfully, by the time August rolled around we’d agreed it was best to get the train instead of driving and, after a sneaky job interview the day before, we set off at 5am from London Euston and made it to the croft in Aird of Sleat for a cup of tea by 6pm. My friend Lorraine then spent the days making me more Scottish than I already am- taking me on whisky tours, forcing me to listen to Runrig on repeat, making me do Gaelic homework with her niece, dragging me along to meet her droothy neeburs in the local pub and generally washing England out of my hair. There’s definitely more than a little magic on that island.
Later on in the week, hunched in the car (the only place I could get a signal and not get blown off the croft), I got a phone call from my interviewers offering me a job. A job in HIV and sexual health nursing, a job I still have now and love going to (almost) every day. I accepted, hung up and then phoned my old job and told them I wouldn’t be returning to work after my unpaid leave. Then I sat in the car for a bit, exhaling.
Back in London, I prepared for a September’s trip to India, in between getting references and occupational health checks for my new job. My friend Janna (one of the few good things about working in intensive care was meeting this girl) and I flew out for an adventure of two weeks working and two weeks travelling in a country neither of us had been to before. India was hot, loud, exhausting, exciting and full of highlights (rooftop yoga at sunset) and lowlights (getting tonsillitis). We met lots of people, made a few long-term friends and generally had a good time before going back to Real Life. My new job started when we got back in October, after a cheeky weekend in Budapest, then November was a solo-weekend in Belfast and my final 2012 trip was to Stuttgart in December, staying with some German girls I’d met in India.

Whilst there was no racing that year, there was certainly plenty of adventure. But I was also travel weary and worried about my Dad and decided to keep 2013 much closer to home- as you’ll find out in my next post!