What My Off-Season Actually Looks Like
- Kerri-Ann Upham
- 4 days ago
- 3 min read
My off-season starts the moment the final race is done for the year. People assume this is the point where I vanish somewhere warm and switch off completely. The truth is much less glamorous, but probably much more familiar to anyone balancing sport with real life.
October: Step Back Without Stopping
October is the only month where I loosen the reins. Structure drops, the pressure disappears, and I let my body reset. I don’t stop — I’d go mad — but the volume comes right down and the sessions become more instinctive.
Funny thing is, with the fatigue gone, some of the best numbers of the year appeared out of nowhere. When you finally give yourself room to breathe, the engine wakes up.
This was also the window to do things I can’t during race season: longer café stops, unhurried rides, and actually seeing people I care about. Basic things, but they make a difference.
I also jumped into a couple of local events purely for fun. First was the Devon Duathlon in November, which I won. Then came the Budleigh Blister 10-mile trail race, a spontaneous hard run that turned into a three-way battle and another win. No stress, no taper, just reminders that I’m still competitive even when the training is loose.
November: Back to Building
By November, the dial turns slightly. Structure returns, the sessions gain direction, and the routine starts to look like training again, just a softer version of the in-season grind.
This is where I take stock. What needs to improve? What will actually move the needle next year?
The swim was top of the list. I started a weekly 30-minute skills session focused entirely on hand entry and catch. I re-tested my threshold pace, set hard targets, and built sessions around them.
Nothing flashy — just consistency and clarity.
I’ve also been working on the mental side. I’ve put myself into small races and sessions that trigger nerves on purpose and focused on managing them instead of avoiding them. It’s something I’ve struggled with, especially on technical terrain, but I can feel the shift. When a session goes badly, I don’t spiral the way I used to. I remind myself: if this is the bad day, imagine the good one.
The Other Side of the Off-Season
People think the off-season is downtime. It isn’t — at least not for athletes like me. I don’t have paid training camps or big sponsorship deals. All my annual leave and savings go into racing, travel, and training blocks. That means this time of year becomes the opposite of a holiday.
It’s admin season.
Website updates. Planning next year’s content. Contacting sponsors. Getting through the pile of “no’s” that come with trying to build support in a niche sport. It can be draining, but every “maybe” feels like a step forward — a crack in the door, a new conversation, someone else who believes in what I’m trying to build.
And honestly, I enjoy that part. I like meeting people in the industry, making connections, and bringing more of them along for the ride.
Looking Ahead
This block of the year is where the reset happens. It’s not shiny or dramatic, but it’s where the next season starts to take shape. I’ve got a few exciting partnerships on the horizon, and before Christmas I’m heading to Lanzarote for a solid training camp — sun, volume, and a proper chance to get stuck in.
I’m not trying to reinvent myself this winter. I’m just trying to get a little better, a little braver, and a little more ready for what’s next.
More to come.
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