Heather Fell, Olympic modern pentathlete silver medalist, writes about her life 'on and off' the track.

IT ceases to surprise me how small this world can be. One example occurred while I was travelling on a packed train to London. I was fortunate enough to board early so had my choice of seats, although this does not give one the luxury to choose who you might like to share the arm rest with. Luckily the battle of the elbows was very subtle and I didn't have too much of my personal space invaded - anyhow it was not long before I fell asleep for the remainder of the journey to Paddington.

It was no surprise that the train was later than scheduled, as a result it was a dash across the city using the underground network to make my meeting. Arriving a little late and rather flustered you can imagine my confusion when entering the room to discover the gentleman I'd shared my armrest with for the last two hours was already sat down, relaxed and looking thoroughly into the discussion at hand (apparently taxis are a faster option)! I was so glad that elbow battle had been gentle, I just hope I didn't nod onto his shoulder during my nap.

The other scenario occurred while out for a run in the Bath countryside. Earlier that morning I had a visit from a new builder to discuss problems with my flat. He mentioned that he lived locally but I was not aware of his farm. Feeling adventurous I set off in a different direction and found myself in completely unknown territory. After a steep climb up through a muddy field the footpath seemed to cut directly across someone's front patio, being curious I peered in, only to be met by a familiar face. Feeling a little embarrassed at having been spotted I quickly ran on only for it to dawn on me that it was in fact Manor Farm and the aforementioned builder. I'm quite certain I wasn't trespassing but still hope my running kit acted as a sufficient disguise.