13.13.27

6am July 15th 2018


I stood in a crowd of people all looking the same as me. Black clad in wetsuits with swim caps on all thinking 'what are we doing'.


Three and a half hours earlier I was sitting in the hotel restaurant trying to eat my last meal and not thinking about the day ahead. I had already rehearsed it over and over in my head whilst staring at the ceiling trying to sleep.


The announcer proclaimed the race was on and slowly we began to edge are way forwards. This was it, the day I had been waiting for.


I had a brief glimpse of the field out in front of me, a long stretch of thrashing arms and legs before I was in, and thrashing myself.


And I was off. I had finally started my Ironman.


https://www.facebook.com/IRONMANtri/videos/10160738387870551/
(If you want to know what the swim looks like!)


And my first sensation is brown. Earthy dull brown - that was the colour of the water. Due to the hot temperatures there was a risk the swim would be cancelled due to high blue green algae levels in the water. Well it didn't look very blue or green to me, it looked brown. And tasted of soil.


But undeterred I ploughed on. Finding a rhythm quite quickly which I was happy with. Sun shinning, plodding along, I actually began to enjoy myself and caught myself thinking 'you are actually doing this, actually competing in the Ironman!'

Before I knew what I was about to undergo!
If you look in the far far distance the big red buoy is where I swam to, twice!

One of the fundamental difference between this event and all the others I have completed up to know is sheer volume. The scale of the operation and logistics alone the number was five times that of any other event - 2500.


That's 2500 people in the water with me, all swimming in the same direction, all trying to take the shortest route....


I would describe it as heavy petting per se, but there was definite contact with a lot of people a lot of the time. It was some where between polite carnage and synchronised drowning. Especially when we arrived at the turning buoys where everyone tried to cut the shortest route. Arms clashed, faces where kicked.  I would pop up every now and then to try and spot a bit of clear water and swim into that, along with everyone else who had the same idea!


The swim out was fine, but the swim back was directly into the early morning sun. It was beautiful, majestic and an absolute bugger to see anything. Sun and then the reflection making it twice as bad all I could do was following the blur of arms in front.


Which did mean when the muppet at the front swam to the wrong pontoon we all followed. A very helpful fellow in a kayak screamed at us though until we all dog legged back and lap one was complete.


A quick out and round and off to do it all again.
More brown.
More legs.
More sun, although this time I started to feel a little but worse. Was it exhaustion? Or, a little bit of rising panic, was it the algae making me sick. The toxins that the algae release are what makes you violently vomit and er other things...


Dropping into breast stroke I started to retch. Big heaving retches. It was not pretty, or helpful to an Ironman in waiting. But I had no choice, but to suck it up (the discomfort not the water - that's water started this whole scenario). My only thought was get out as soon as you can and get to the coke in your transition bag. Kills everything according to the wife.
Well luckily I didn't need to get that far as there was cups of coke ready to go on exit and I tell you what it was like a magic sponge of old. Within seconds my stomach settled and I thought I may just may make it to the end of the day.


Swim done. 1 hour 25 min. Not smashed, but a solid start.


Another swig of coke in transition, just to make sure, and a splurge of sanitiser on the hands and ready to cycle cycle cycle!


I had spotted my trusty support crew on the swim exit, but managed to miss them on the bike exit.
But I was in the zone, and slightly worried about the route as I hadn't ridden it, or drove it. How would I know where it went......oh I just follow the hundreds of bikes in front!

Nice shiny bikes! Mines the blue one at the back. No the one on the left.

Head down arse up and set off. So much so that the first 10 miles took me 30mins. I had to have a few strong words with myself about not getting carried away. That pace I would smash the bike leg and die on the run. But I kept it a steady pace, feeling pretty good.


It was also great motivation to cycle past all the fancy dans on there expensive bikes. And when we approached the hills, they were tough, don't get me wrong they were, but none were as steep as the ones I had tackled in training, so I was secretly thinking 'you got this'.


Onwards under the sun we rode, with good spirits , having a chat we a few people on the way. Loads of supporters out on the course - unbelievable. One town we rode through three times made it feel like it was the tour de france, 3 or 4 people deep on both sides of the rode. It was epic.


There were a few issues, not for me, but one guy stacked it into a brick wall on a tricky decent. One woman pulled out in front of me, she had clearly not go anything left. And it brought home to me actually I need to pay attention. Eating my flap jacks and drinking gels.


I also sacrificed my nice water bottle to change out to a fresh one, then another, and another. In the 6 hours it took to complete the bike route I had drunk nearly 3.5 litres!


But the memories of that ride are still with me, the wrestlers bouncing around to the tunes at the top of a hill, the oopa loompas at the feed station, the horns and whistles on the big climbs and the signs.
Ah the signs that people had out;
Smile, you paid for this
Finally the day you finish training
Don't be shit (a personal favourite)
I trained all year to hold this sign - although the sign was propped up against a wall!


And of course the best of all was;
Just keep swimming, and cycling and running - held by my very own support crew of Pam, Katie, Tom and Elliot!


Eventually I rolled into Bolton feeling pretty good, all the bike training had paid off. Popped shoes off on the bike - top triathlon tip from Pam. Doesn't really save much time but saves a lot of palaver.


Then onto the run. A marathon. Ah crap!

All the run bags the day before the carnage

And I will add it wasn't crap as brutal. Absolutely brutal. I jogged out of transition, changed into my Birmingham Childrens Hopsital top ready to go and the first lap was alright. 6 miles. 60 minutes. Nice.


Then the wheels fell off....of legs to be more accurate. I began to walk up the steep park section, which lets face it was plain mean to include. Then the never ending road of doom that went on and on and on. Until you reach the end and have to turn round and come back all along the same road. Every. Piggin. Step.


In the beginning the feed stations were a god send, water, coke, electrolyte, bananas, gels, nachos (for salt). By the end I just wanted a cup of tea, anything different, but you had to force yourself to eat, and drink. I was so sick of nachos making my mouth dry I would suck them for the salt then through them.
The showers were another bonus, and the fella who stood at the end of his drive spraying people with his garden hose deserves a pint for every person he sprayed.


At the end of each lap you received a band, green 1, blue 2, red 3, yellow you were a lucky lucky bugger and were finishing.


And I started looking who had what band. Jealous of anyone ahead of me, selfishly pleased with anyone behind.


Lap three my legs came back to me a bit and I decided to stretch them out a bit to see if I could up my pace. I got about 10 strides before cramp slapped me back down and I berated myself into little steps.


I think I may have said, I say this is a jolly darn jaunt....or words to that effect!
This was only 12 miles into the run

Onwards I plodded until eventually I got that yellow band. I was going home. Even the motivational songs coming out of the crowds got better - Sweet Caroline, Ba ba baa.


Until rather than turning left to start another lap I got to turn right and run down the red carpet, under the arch to become and Ironman. Grrrrrrrrrr!




And when I think back to all that training, the runs in the rain, the cycles in the ice and snow. Early mornings and late nights. I have to say, I did bloody good! I am so chuffed! I think I can honestly say I have not worked this hard for something like this.


But there is a few I would like to thank as it wasn't always just me....(lets face it I'm never gonna win an Oscar so this is my chance!)


Alan at Black Country Triathletes for teaching me to swim.
Sharon at Active Body Centre for keeping my knee in one piece
Justine for trying to keep the rest of my body in one piece
Steve 'coach' P for keeping me from panicking when training wasn't going well
My support crew from all the events - Katie, Amie, Helen, Thia, and the rugby lads
Everyone who has kindly donated
Tom who has put up with me talking about this for ever!
Anyone else who I have forgotten.


And of course Pam, my long suffering wife, who without I would never been able to do this.




Statman


People on stretchers with drips - 2
Bike crashes I saw - 2
People vomiting on the run - 4 (none of it pretty)
Estimated calories burn - 15,000


Times (hrs.mins.sec)
Swim - 1.25.24
T1 - 7.29
Cycle - 5.59.31
T2 - 6.55
Run - 5.34.10


Total 13.13.27

Total money raised - £2495 (THANK YOU SO SO MUCH!)