As I write this in mid September 2008, what would have been Millie’s first birthday has been and gone, and it’s now 10 months since Millie was taken from us, aged just 4 months, 3 weeks, and 2 days, it seems like only yesterday. She leaves behind devastated parents and a five year old big sister, who has had to witness and endure things that no “little one” should have to. Whilst we are still grief stricken and struggling to come to terms with what has happened, we do feel truly honoured to have been blessed with Millie, placid and happy as she was, for the short but precious time we had her with us.
 
This last year has truly been, to quote an over-used but nonetheless true cliché, an emotional rollercoaster. In 5 short months, we went through the elation of the arrival of our gorgeous little girl, being overjoyed at her serene and happy demeanour; only to be told when she was 7 weeks old that she wouldn’t live past 6 months. The ensuing months became a bizarre combination of managing the daily practicalities of caring for our poorly little girl, trying to maintain as happy and “normal” home life for both girls, whilst trying to savour every moment that we had with her - not knowing how many more we would get. Millie’s quality of life, the struggle that we went through each day trying to provide the best for our poorly little girl was in no small part aided by the Jennifer trust, who were unswerving in their support of a family in crisis. The trust is a charity that supports families who have been blighted by Spinal Muscular Atrophy (SMA), a degenerative genetic disorder which is the number one genetic killer of infants in the UK today.

For me (Millie’s Daddy), since she passed, I have sought solace in the exhaustive training routine required to prepare for and complete both the Ironman France and the Etapé Du Tour, an undertaking that I hope provides a platform to raise awareness of SMA, and some funds for the trust. All expenses for both events were paid for out of pocket by us, so 100% of your donations go into the coffers of the trust.

To prepare for the events I trained 6 days a from the beginning of last November until the Etapé in July, workouts included one midweek run of between 15 and 20 miles after work, and a weekend ride starting at 50 miles, building up to 100 miles each week, as well as 5 lunchtime gym session and a couple of early morning swims.

So, onto the events, the Ironman is the longest event that the sport of triathlon has to throw at competitors. Starting with a 2.4 mile sea swim as a “warm up”, followed by a 112 mile bike ride, and in the case of the France event, straight up into the Alps, climbing 2000 Metres vertically over the length of the course. And if that isn’t enough, once the bike is over, a marathon awaits, at the start point of the marathon, I would have been going for in excess of 8 hours. I managed (just) to complete the France Ironman, I was gutted with the time (13:45), but now I've got over the disappointment, I've started to come to the opinion that that's largely irrelevant given the circumstance surrounding it for me, and that there will be other events to prove my prowess (haven't agreed that with Di yet though!). The heat on the Cote d’Azur was absolutely searing, 32 degrees in the shade - there was precious little of that on the course which provided piercing sun for the duration of the event. For a pasty brit who's been preparing over the winter here, it wasn't a welcoming environment.
 
Swim was pretty uneventful, took it steady, sat back for a change, and looked for a clear run rather than fighting my way through the 2000 other competitors all looking for the same piece of water, swim took 1:17.
 
Transition to the bike was steady, similarly the start of the bike, I then had my first nip of cramp at the bottom of the first big descent having just gone uphill for close on an hour. Took a mental note to take it easier, in order to get to the run fresh. I still continued to get further cramps for the remainder of the bike, which for me is unheard of, I didn't have to dismount, but was very aware of what was unfolding at this point. I can't remember the last time I got cramp on a bike, but then again, never rode the mountains in France in 30+ degree heat before!
 
That then led to a complete seizure of the legs in transition 2, 15 minutes to get going again, managed to run with cramp stops for about the first 10 miles of the marathon, and then the legs just completely locked up. I couldn't even walk without getting crippling cramps, threw up at this point. I was now at THE low point on the race, 16 miles to go, legs in bits, and clearly suffering heat exhaustion and dehydration, the vision was starting to get a bit blurred round the edges at this point. If it hadn't been for the thought of Millie, and all the messages of support, I'm not sure I would have got to the end. I did manage to hobble the last 16 miles, still cramping, but just about moving forward, so am glad of that at least.
 
A big well done to Toby, who, despite a distinct lack of bike hours put in a sterling effort, a good even pace, and a strong run, would certainly have caught me within a couple more miles at the pace we were going at!

I think I'll stick to less temperate climes for my future exploits, or convert my garage into a sauna, and set the bike trainer up in there, just no preparing for that sort of heat in the UK!

The Etapé is traditionally an opportunity for members of the public to ride the most difficult mountain stage of the worlds most famous bike race, the tour de France. This years stage followed one of the oldest and most revered tour routes through the Pyrenees, 100 miles in length, and climbs over 2 of the most brutal peaks in the Pyrenees, the col du Tourmalet, and the Hautacam. To put these climbs in perspective, think of the steepest hill in your area, these climbs will be at least that steep, in the case of the Hautacam for 9 miles, and the Tourmalet 11 miles, the Tourmalet also has the added “softener” of an additional shallower incline to get to the start, itself 8 Miles in length, that’s 17 miles uphill, no flat, no respite!

Toby and I started out from the Gite that we were staying in at 5:40 in relatively light clothing as the forecast was for light showers and 18 degrees. Mistake number one, in the event, it was prolonged (pretty much all day) light rain, and we were already soaked through to the skin by the time we'd ridden the 8 miles to the start, and then had a 50 minute stand, in the rain, shivering, before we made a move across the start line. Not a great start to the day.

The ride itself was great, really well organised, along some great rural roads and into small towns that were full of cheering spectators, just fantastic. As the rain kept coming all day, the roads never dried, so when it wasn't raining, we were getting covered in spray, which ensured that wet to the bone we stayed... the climb to the Tourmalet just seemed to go on forever, about 20 KM of it at around the 4% mark, and then the "real" climb for another 16KM at 7%, all in the rain, and up in the clouds past about 800M, really cold (about 2 or 3 degrees at the top), which was ok on the climb, but rather problematic on the decent. In order to keep warm, I was forced to pedal like the clappers on the descents, which made it rather interesting to say the least on the wet twisty mountain roads!

The climb up the Hautacam was gruelling, especially the steepest gradients of the day that came between 6 and 2 KM's from the end... The most uncomfortable part of the day however was being held at the top for 20 mins, in the freezing cold, still wet, to then descend back down through the mist to the bottom of the Hautacam which was another 30 minutes of misery, I was probably the coldest I've ever been. Don't know how I slowed down on some corners, my hands weren’t responding any more. I stopped at the first cafe I came to at the bottom, and consumed vast quantities of hot chocolate, chips and burgers to try and warm up. A guy later commented when I'd stopped shivering (literally about an hour later) that he didn't want to ask if I was OK, as he thought I might have a medical condition! :-)

I completing the Etapé along with my certifiable friends Pat Healey, Paul Freeman and Toby Pearson, and the Ironman with Toby (doubly certifiable?), all of whom completed the challenges before them, and have additionally provided both invaluable emotional support through these tough times, along with debates on everything from fuelling strategies during a race to what is the best clothing to wear in these most extreme of circumstances.

Additionally, we've has some fantastic support from friends and people who have only heard our story in the Manchester 10K run this year through a corporate team entered by Branton Bridge solicitors. Special thanks to Paula Bridge and Kate Branton for nominating The Jennifer Trust as the beneficiary of the group entry. The race is the North’s premier 10K run following a route from the city centre around the Old Trafford football ground and back again. A couple of notable mentions in the field of runners to Julia Cocking who ran an excellent 70 mins for her first 10K, keep up the good work Ju, and to Dave Bridge who despite no training, significant knee injuries and chronic gout - did 54 mins, although last 3Ks were later described as 'difficult'. Andy Bull was quoted as saying that the event was a net loss in terms of calories after retiring to the Lowry Hotel post race to test the limits of their Peroni stock.

Finally to Toby (trebly certifiable?) who ran a fantastic 3:06 in the Paris marathon in March, despite suffering at the hands of some French Pate the night before, great effort mate. 

Chris