I have been preparing for Christmas for a few weeks. I put the tree up early, made the cake, bought the presents, and assembled the stockings. Even though my children no longer believe in Santa, the crinkle of my dad's old golf socks on Christmas morning still makes them happy.
For the first time since they were born, I won't be there to celebrate with them. I will be leaving my husband, daughter and son to row across the Atlantic as part of the annual Talisker Whisky Atlantic Challenge. My crew of mothers is called the Mothership and we have 11 children, the youngest of which is four.
I flew out to La Gomera in the Canaries at the end of November to prepare for our trip. The hardest moment was walking out of the house at 5am knowing I wouldn't see my children again for at least two months. The next time I see them, they will be on the shore at English Harbour in Antigua at the end of January. Two weeks is the longest we have ever been apart.
My husband was supportive like he was with me when I was doing endless marathons in my 40s. I have no problem leaving him in charge of the household for several weeks because he is the main cook at home. It was an unnerving moment when we got around to writing our will.
My kids have made my decision to take part in the race down to a midlife crisis. While my crewmates have been dealing with their kids, I have had to laugh at them. My son told me that he couldn't care less what I did. They have started to withdraw from me in order to deal with me going away. Their faces are so gut-wrenching that tears would be hard to come by.
Family and other people are worried. I was moved by the love and affection I received from my friends. They are excited for me, but there is a feeling that I will not come back. When you sign up for TWAC, you will be asked if you accept that ocean rowing is a dangerous sport. The boat that Chay Blyth first rowed across the Atlantic in 1966 was fully open to the elements, but there are many risks involved.
The crewmates of Lebby Nelson are next to Mrs Nelson. The Atlantic Campaigns.
If we capsize, Mrs Nelson, the sturdy 28ft boat that will be our home for at least 40 days, will roll and pop back up. My worst fear is that we will be upside down in the middle of a storm. There are 36 boats in the race fleet, but we think we have a safety yacht behind us at all times. We will only see them once, and for most of the 3,000 miles we will be on our own. We would have to summon the nearest ship.
At 3am, the enormity of all the unknowns can be overwhelming. Only 226 women in the world have ever completed this challenge, and it has motivated me to do it. Is it a midlife crisis?
I felt I would regret it forever if I turned it down, because the opportunity came around by chance. My friend Jo, who I rowed with at Oxford University, thought I would be a great fit for the crew after the Mothership had a late drop out.
There is more to it than that. Three years ago, I was made redundant from my job as a magazine editor. One day I was looking after 40 staff and two magazines, and the next I woke up with a terrible gin and tonic in my hand, wondering what I was going to do for the rest of my life.
Life began to slot into place again after I flopped for a while. I went to the Lake Annecy competition in France in June as a beginner. I rediscovered the joy of being on the water and the thrill of racing after not rowing competitively for 24 years.
I met the woman who did the Atlantic challenge alone in 2001 when her husband had to be rescued from their boat. I listened to her stories of life at sea, but didn't think I'd be doing the same two years later. The trip inspired me to try and row again. I was fit enough to join the ocean rowing crew at the last minute because of my training, despite the fact that the two seasons I have done have been disrupted by the Pandemic.
Kelda Wood was the first disabled woman to row the Atlantic solo. She described how hard it was and how much she hated being alone, yet she was so fulfilled by what she had achieved. Pip Hare sailed around the world on his own. They were both amazing, tough women who made me wonder what I could do.
I am about to set off for the toughest row in the world. I am facing 40-50 days at sea, rowing two hours on and two hours off continuously. We don't sleep for more than 90 minutes at any one time because we have to fit in eating, going to the loo and washing the salt off our bodies while we're off. If you don't, blisters and sores will develop quickly.
We don't sleep for more than 90 minutes at a time.
There will be constant pain. The last 15 minutes of any two-hour shift can be very nerve-racking. I have no idea what state they will be in after six weeks, because it took my hands days to recover from a row. We can't do much for aches and pains, so we just soldier on. Once you lose sight of land, rowers are most likely to be removed from the boat. The constant nausea becomes too much for some people.
Everyone who has completed the crossing will tell you that it is 80% in the mind, but contestants tend to focus on the physical. We have been doing a lot of physical activity, including rowing, weight-training, and pilates. The cabins are awkward to climb into at the best of times, so flexibility is important.
Building resilience is even more important. When I was pregnant with my first child, I went through 17 hours of labour, then days of sleepless nights, and I had to keep a small human alive. As a mother, we need to be tough, resilient, and excellent multi-taskers.
This isn't just a personal journey of recovery. I want to show that being a mother doesn't mean being subsumed by your children. I hope that it will encourage women and girls to believe that adventures aren't limited to men.
I love the sense of satisfaction I get from raising money and putting myself through pain. Every penny we raise goes to our charities, Women in Sport, the Felix Fund and the Noah's Ark Children's Hospice, thanks to the sponsorship of Tritax Big Box, a real estate investment company. When times are tough, it will help to know we are doing this for others as well.
I will be missing this time with my children because there aren't many Christmas days left before my daughter turns 18. I will have to put up with a phone call as I open the present in my luggage. They will miss me and I will miss them. I know they are proud of me and that makes it all worthwhile.
Justgiving.com/team/ The Mothership.
