Βι¶ΉΤΌΕΔ

It is a fact of elite sport that you rarely get to choose the way you retire.

There are some who finish on the immense high of an Olympic gold, there are many more whose last moment of being an international athlete might be losing a selection trial, or finally giving up the battle against injury one morning in March.

is a name that will forever be associated with Olympic glory. and were not names that even made it on to the Team GB list this summer, as both retired in the spring after winters blighted by illness and injury.

Everybody dreams of the fairytale ending but only a tiny number of people actually achieve it.

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I have been trying to write this blog for most of the last fortnight and what I have wanted to say has changed every day.

The logical part of my brain tells me I have got so much to be proud of. I am a two-time Olympian, part of an elite group. I won a silver medal at the 2008 Games in Beijing andΒ have stood on the podium at three World Championships since then.

To then represent my country at a home Olympics is an indescribable honour. However, the emotional part of my brain leaves me feeling confused about London 2012.

How should I feel about coming fifth in the final of the women's eight? How should I feel about all that has happened in the last eight years, the incredible highs and horrific lows?

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