Riding Solo (ft. Jason Derulo.)

So, in June 2018, I bucked my ideas up and launched myself into becoming a #strongindependantwoman. With the help of some very valued friends, I escaped the (beautiful) depths of Wales and moved to Shrewsbury as a lone free ranger. 

Please refer to the above picture of me embracing my new independence. Getting naked and running around is liberating. Liberating until some tourists (the type that take pictures of pigeons in London and carry cameras around their necks whilst wearing socks and sandals) pulled over and thought they were the paparazzi. So yes, (somewhere in the world) there is a picture of me running around the south coast of Iceland, naked.  I hope they enjoy it.  Was not the first time and probably won’t be the last time I have been caught ‘skinny dipping’.  Who dares wins. 

As part of this miraculous transformation and adamant independence, I rediscovered an appetite for BIG  nights out and everything that went with it. From the end of June until December 2018, I didn’t spend a single weekend in my own company. I was either ‘out out’ or visiting friends at either end of the country. Spending a fortune, getting terrible hangovers around working stupid hours and occasionally frequenting the gym. Safe to say, this was not sustainable but enough of this reminiscing over nights I can barely remember. I am sure I had fun. 

As a recently single female, together with embracing some classy nights out, you are meant to do something drastic like chop off your hair, get a tattoo blah blah.   I entered the Shrewsbury Triathlon and bought a second-hand road bike (Specialized Roubaix) – also due to a (tiny) bit of sibling rivalry. I know, wild child right here. 

Honestly, a road bike is a completely different creature to your normal two wheeler.  First outing resulted in me crashing into a hedge and flying over the handle bars. Women drivers are a nightmare. As are stinging nettles.  

I had from June to September to learn how to drive the bike and to get somewhere near ‘triathlon fit’. 

Anyway, I set about continuing my personal development of nights out, putting miles on my car at weekends and living life at 110 mph not knowing whether I was coming or going – obviously living my best life. 

September was ages away and what’s a triathlon anyway!?!?


Published by lifeoftri

26. Attempting to be a triathlete whilst having a life. Oh, and work to pay for both. Wishing for more hours in the day.

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