The one that shouldn't have been!
I had programmed my training carefully so that I had a local half
Ironman distance 5 weeks before the full event, in Stratford Upon Avon. Then the buggers went and
postponed it until September…of no use to me as a warm up event. I could have
signed up for the official 70.3 in Stafford, but that is very expensive.
Instead I found myself travelling up the M6 to the lake district for A Day in
the Lakes triathlon. Luckily my brother was up for a road trip so he was
designated driver for the weekend.
Ullswater was the exact location, well for the swim, then a
bike through the country side and a run through the fells.
Racking was a bit more organised than I have been used to,
having a numbered station and everything. But more surprising was the
announcement in the briefing that due to Ullswater lake being 18 degrees wet
suits were optional. 18 degrees! That is hotter that the Worcester lake that
had a heating system! Naturally I stuck with the wetsuit for buoyancy but
still.
There was also a lot of very expensive looking bikes on
show, and a very knowledgeable looking field…I predicted I would not be
finishing in the top half of this lot.
Suited and booted or more literal suited and hatted, we took
to the water, all green hats bobbing around like idiots. I said so to the guy
next to me, ‘why are we doing this?’ His response...he did an Ironman 5 years
ago and promised he’d never do one again, as he was about to embark on a half!
If, in five years, I sign up for another Ironman you all
have my permission to beat me round the head with a kitchen utensil until I see
sense.
After bobbing around for about 3 minutes the hooter went and
arms and feet began to flail. I had hung back due to, well, not thinking I
would be the fastest and guess what, I wasn’t. I had a rubbish swim. Struggle
to get my breathing right, and my rhythm going, it was a struggle from start to
finish. My motivation was made worse by being left behind by my wave and caught
by the fast ones of the wave behind. But I made it round and didn’t drown – all
good. The last lap was fuelled by the indignation of some bloke cheating as
well. The start line was between two buoys, we then complete one lap of a
triangle. To start the second lap we were then to go around both of the start
buoys. Well this one chap didn’t, he cut the corner to the middle of the line,
and then cut the corner back out. I was annoyed, one because I was struggling
like anything to swim – why should he have it easier, and two, what’s the
point, he was at the back, it made no difference. And he had a bright orange
wetsuit so surely the marshals saw him. Oh well.
Like the monster from the black lagoon I emerged bedraggled
and blowing from the lake and made my way to transition.
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| Baywatch missed out I tell ya! |
On my last outing there was a couple of, ahem, comfort
issues with the trisuit on the run section. That is to say it was riding up
slightly and, well it was somewhat uncomfortable for me, and probably the
spectators. This time I decided to try and wear separates – (cycle shorts and a
separate cycle top, then a set of
running shorts). As a result rather than the miniscule amount of equipment the
station next to me had – two pairs of shoes, a helmet, a gel, and a flannel, I
had two pairs of shoes, a helmet, a box full of food, a pair of running shorts
and running vest, a pair of cycling shorts and cycling top, and a hand towel.
But I think the extra time is actually worth the extra comfort.
As I was taking an age to change, I also committed a big
error. I crammed a load of malt loaf into my face (two slices).
Quick hop, step and a jump and we were onto the bike
section.
It was a nice undulating route, with no steep hills, so I
was enjoying it. The scenery was quite spectacular. Slowly one by one the
athletes in all the fancy gear started to come passed me, tucked up on their
ridiculously expensive machines. But that’s fine. I fared better than some. On
the first lap I saw one bloke sat on the side of the rode, not looking happy,
then another two, both with broken chains.
I survived all mechanical troubles on the bike but did
suffer a biological one – not of the lavatory type before you all wince and
skip the next paragraph. Recently I have been reading up on nutrition and how
you are supposed to weigh out 0.4 grams of carbohydrates per 2.7kg of body
mass, for every 2.9 seconds of exercise, then times by .27, take away the first
number you thought of, blah blah blah. Basically if you can be bothered there
is a lot of science about how much you should eat and when. Generally on my
training rides I would drink a gel every hour and eat an energy bar every hour,
staggering the two (ie eat/drink every half hour) and this has served me well.
For whatever reason, I don’t know, but those that know me well will know one of
my big fears is running out of food. My mum likes to tell the story of as a
toddler if they put me in the high chair too early and the food wasn’t there I would
scream the house down. And my wife will tell you that every time I’m ill I
panic and try and eat. So it would come as no surprise to these two that I had
before the race my usually porridge for breakfast. Then I had two slices of
malt loaf and a banana before the swim. Then two more after the swim, then the
usually gels and bars on the bike.
For those that don’t know what happens when you eat too much
during exercise your gut shuts down and your stomach cramps every time you try
and put anything into it. Which is what mine did. On such a hot day this was a
real problem as I couldn’t drink. I felt sick with every mouthful of water, but
really thirsty if I didn’t drink. At one point I thought the best thing would
be to force myself to be sick. I didn’t, but I do wonder whether I should maybe
may attention to the maths a bit more for the real Ironman!
But if I thought my problems were bad not as bad as some. As
I started the second lap I heard, then saw, the ambulance flying passed, blues
lights and blaring. I had hoped against hope that it wasn’t in relation to our
race (not that that makes it any better) but it was a slim hope, and as I
approached one of the tricky tight S bends over a bridge it wasn’t a good
sight. There was a car in the middle of the road to ensure we had to move onto
the other side of the road, and the paramedics were present but sadly one rider
had either taken the corner too fast and washed out, or hit something. Either
way it brought it home that when all is said and done you want everyone to get
round safely.
Shaken a bit I pushed on to complete the second lap, but
once more my progress was hampered this time by virtue of the race location.
Coming back into the campsite where the transition was based a car and caravan
on the tight twisty Cumbrian roads was trying to get passed a, yep you guessed
it, a car and a caravan! It was total gridlock, with runners trying to weave their
way back onto the run course (the run route came back out which I think was
slightly mean as you realise how much further ahead some people are!) and
cyclists trying to get into transition.
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| Not quite the aerodynamic position I was aiming for! |
Eventually I made it, and my heart sank a little at the
amount of bikes already back. I was way down the field.
Another wardrobe change and I was off again.
And very quickly realised that being in the lake district
meant two things….lakes – check swam that bit, and hills – crap.
The run section was horrific. Running is the bit I hate the
most. The bit I am worst at. Therefore once more I prove myself an idiot for
selecting a half Ironman where the half marathon run section goes up a Cumbrian
mountain. No joke – a mountain. For legal reasons I may have to clarify it wasn’t
a mountain per se just a really frickin’ steep hill. But it had a stair case.
What run has a stair case?
If you followed the subtle pointers I have laid out you will
understand I did not enjoy the run and I suffered badly for it. I had to walk
up said stair case, and shuffle the rest. The only saving grace was the biggest
double edge sword you ever did see. As we rounded the top of the hill/mountain
in front of us was the whole valley containing the lake and the hills in the distance.
It was majestic. I paused there just long enough to appreciate it before my
brain then told me ‘you do realise you have to run to the far end of that lake
right?!’
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| The hill out of shot on the right was the one we 'ran' up. Also note the ground....we had a bit of a down pour- but actually it was very welcome |
But run I did, down the hill, over the bridge, through the
bog, passed the troll, and onto the road which stretched out in front.
Eventually I crawled into the campsite and through the blue
triathlon sign exhausted. And elated. And half an Ironman.
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| Still moving.....just |
Only one more to go!
STATMAN
Distances – 2k swim/48mile bike/ 12.8m run
Time achieved – 6hrs49min
Breakdown – 41min swim/3hrs6min bike/ 3hr run
Energy bars eaten – too many
Curses uttered – urm…….
Races to go – ONE!
Money Raised - £785!!!!!!! nearly there.
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