City of Lancaster Triathlon
"The only limits we have are those we set ourselves"
COLT Ironman Experiences.
These are the personal race reports from members of COLT. Every person who races an Ironman has a tale to tell, it changes you, no race is the same, and no matter how many you do, you have to respect the challenge you face.
Hopefully these reports will give you an idea of the physical and mental anguish an Ironman faces. Hopefully they will amuse you, maybe shock you but most of all inspire you to never give up and to rise to the triathlon challenge ( whatever distance that may be ). The rewards far out way the sacrifices.
You may also like to read the inspirational, moving and amusing race experiences of other COLT Triathletes here
Embrunman 2009 by Tom Phillips
3.30pm on Saturday 15th August, the 3.8km swim and the 186km alpine bike ride have been completed and now the moment of truth, Would my recently damaged calf muscle survive any running at all let alone 42kms? A year of preparation had come to a grinding halt 10 days before the Embrunman Long Distance Triathlon when after just 3kms of a gentle training run I ended up hobbling and barely able to walk. I'd torn my Soleus Muscle in my right calf very badly, things were not looking good.
Almost as an afterthought I texted a friend who was a sports physio, his reply came back almost straight away, he was on holiday, but he contacted a local sports doctor who was able to see me the next day. It was a long shot but I thought after so much effort that any help was worth a try. Trevor is a doctor at the cutting edge of sports medicine and he suggested some autologous blood injections, basically taking some of my own blood and immediately injecting it into the damaged muscle. I was of course a bit nervous about somethign that sounded a bit like doping, but this technique is above board and just a way of speeding up the body's own repair mechanism. Two injections over 4 days, and a visit to a sports physio at least gave me some hope of attempting the event. However I was still barely able to walk at the COLT club training swim 5 days before the event.
Wednesday saw myself and Alistair plus our support crew (Emma, Matty and Alfie) head out to Embrun, getting 5 of us plus two bikes and camping gear into one hire car was the first challenge, and after an hour of repacking we drove out of Geneva airport and after a night with friends near Grenoble we arrived at Embrun, a small town that for one weekend becomes the centre of attention in French Traithlon.
What makes this event different from any other long distance triathlon is the brutal 186 kms bike ride over the 2300 metre COl D'Izoard close to the French Italian border. That alone would be enough for most fit cyclists, but the ride also takes in two other major climbs and many other shorter hilly sections that add up to over 3100 metres of climbing, in potentially baking hot summer weather. Especially brutal is the 350 metre hill that weaves its way above the town just 8kms from the end of the ride. What makes this event special is the amazing support all around the course, and the many sections of closed roads that allow you to ride the alpine roads without oncoming traffic. It's as close as you can get to feeling like a rider in the Tour de france, which often comes over these roads.
Of course the day started much earlier, at 4am we sat outside the tent eating rice pudding and drinking coffee, not talking much, both in our own little bubbles of contemplation. We thought we were perhaps a bit early, but on arrival at the transition (we had left our bikes in place the night before) the floodlit compound was a hive of activity. We both rechecked our equipment and handed in our food bags for the Col D'Izoard pick up and the half marathon pick up points.
"Your the Brits" a cheery voice greeted us. It was Simon who had entered the event last year but failed to complete it because he overslept and had arrived just as the swim was finishing! (He was allowed to do the run and the ride, but that must have been very frustrating!). Simon told us that Embrunman was a really big thing, you are almost revered by the spectators and the locals even for attempting this event. Simon was the only other UK based rider attempting the course this year, apart from Stephen and Bella Baylis of course, both expected to be challenging for first places.
SWIM 3.8kms
5.50 am and the women set of and we walk down the blue carpet towards the lake. Being hardened to cool (freezing?!) British waters the 22C waters of the large boating lake felt very welcoming and the red flashing lights of the lead boat was to be the moving target for the 1000 swimmers in the main field. After some grim experiences in UK events being trapped in the middle of a flailing pack of competitors I decided to hold back and swim on the very left of the field, and this proved to be a perfect choice. I could "sight" on the many canoeists shepherding us around the flashing beacons on the buoys and got an amazingly clear swim, only having to tread water around a couple of sharp turns, and only one kick in the goggles. The darkness ebbed away and a bright band of sunlight hit the peaks to the East of the lake. Being able to concentrate on technique rather than survival was great and although I'd never previously swum 3.8 kms in one go, the finishing ramp was within sight after what seemed no time at all. Perhaps the warm water helped but the normal heavy legged feeling was absent as I walked up the ramp to great applause and headed into transition. Forcing myself to concentrate I really had to make sure that I set myself up well for the long ride ahead. In a sprint event I take less than a minute to do the swim/bike transition, today I invested 8 minutes in preperation, and headed out into the long shadows of sunrise ready to tackle perhaps the the most ambitious bike ride of my life.
Swim 1 hour 17 mins
BIKE 186kms (3200 m ascent)
Despite still being 6.30 am the temperature was already around 22C and the initial loop of 40kms with 600 metres of ascent saw everyone riding with high spirits and excitement. Surprisingly, there were a number of road side casualties with punctures, broken gears, etc. My pulse rose to 155 pretty quickly (88%) although I felt like I was taking it pretty easily, I knew I'd settle down to an easier pace but initally just rode on autopilot and enjoyed having fresh legs and amazing views, almost every house and "hameau" (hamlet) had groups of cheering suporters even at this time. The first return past Embrun was through a corridor or cheering supporters, amazing! Now the long approach to the Col D'Izoard. Being a much better cyclist than a swimmer I was now gainign places, on flatter sections sometimes overtaking large groups of of ten or more in one fell swoop - very satisfying! Every 20kms there is a main feed station, so you can take on fresh bottles of water, isostar, or coke, as well as a wide selection of food, I chose water or isostar and bananas, and consumed energy gels from my top tube bag avery 40 mins or so. 70 kms into the ride and Simon recognised me as I caught him up on the spectaular Guillestre Gorge section, we chatted a while and I took some photos of him much to the amusement of the other riders around. Simon had completed the swim in around 1.08 hours and from now until the very end of the race we would trade places. On the gentle incline I left Simon behind for a while, the Izoard was now beckoning and sections of hairpins on the appraoch roads led onto some steep long straight climbs in the full midday sun.
A slight tailwind meant there was no breeze and again I was struggling to keep my pulse within reasonable limits. Only when the first hairpin of the main climb arrived was there any relief, the sudden turn into the breeze was a great relief and the gradient of the hairpin bends was far more friendly. Suddenly you emerge from the the treeclad slopes into the barren moonscape like environment of the last few kms. Even more cheering supporters here, "courage", "Chapeau", "allez", every rider getting superb encouragement from th. appreciative spectators. Just before the final summit hairpins the road descends a little way through huge rock pinnacles and giant scree slopes, A statue to Coppi and Bobet at the roadside reminds you of the history this col has. Now it's time to soak in the feeling of elation at reaching this high point at 2350 metres, but there is not enough time to appreciate it all as the feeding station demands your attention. I hear my number called out and my food bag is handed to me whilst I exchange my drinking bottles and stuff yet more bannanas into my pockets.
From being in sight of many riders on the slow ascent your are now stretched out by speed on the descent. Even though I am used to steep descents the unknown road demands my full attention, though my GPS shows upcoming bends which is very useful to avoid overshooting some of the more severe switchcbacks. The 15km descent takes just 15 minutes, and with no oncoming traffic (like 90% of the ride) this is pure pleasure, although the slight headache from overheating meant I had to concentrate on drinking steadily to rehydrate. It was somewhat of a shock to ride through the deserted streets of Briancon and then head "down the valley" into a desiccating hot headwind. In many ways the toughest part of the ride was yet to come. The route back from Briancon to Embrun involved several long climbs and descents up and down the valley sides, along narrow traffic free roads. Increasingly I saturated myself with water from my water bottles, which I refilled at every opportunity, the hot headwind now really starting to sap my strength. Next came the technical descent to a small airfield where the pre-race brief had warned of sharp turns and gravel, then a short length of main road where huge queues of traffic were being held back by police and volunteers. Embrun came back into view at the 180 km point, but still a final climb awaited, sharp hairpins taking now tired riders through the houses above the town. Really great support here spurred me on, with a cooling hosepipe, and even a watering can offered by the locals, and finally a enthusiastic bugle player announced the top and the final freewheel for 4kms back into transition.
I'd put thoughts of the run out of my mind pretty much, but now the moment of truth was approaching, would I be able to complete 42kms, in the heat of the afternoon?
Bike 8 hours 3 minutes.
Run 42kms (400 metres of ascent)
Back in transition after a great welcome it was fairly quiet, the field now well spread out. A couple of volunteers offered me a massage, so whilst sat down in my chair getting items ready my legs were receiving some welcome treatment! Once changed into running gear the moment of truth had now arrived. My ploy was to change my running style to avoid straining my calfs, so I'd inserted 2cms of extra padding in my running shoe heels and was aiming to run flat footed rather than on my toes. Exiting transition the winning male was running towards me just 1km from the finish, (he would soon be 20,000 Euros better off). The first of 4 loops around the swimming lake went OK, with no signs of any problems, and gradually I settled down and forgot about the calf and thought more about the seemingly endless run.
Breaking it up into segements seemed the best "mind game" and without a watch to remind me of the minutes and seconds I tried to just keep a comfortable pace and posture, and soak in the support and atmosphere. Children held out their palms for you to touch them as you passed, "Embrummen" are really held in great esteem it seems and once when I dropped my sunglasses at a feeding station a young helper instantly found them and handed them back to me with an amazing sense of urgency! Simon passed me once again whilst I was fiddling with my camelback, and shortly I caught him again and exchanged brief notes. 10kms came after an hour and eight minutes, I was happy to settle for that. Next I counted a third of the route completed as the temperature seemed to soar (probably high 30's air temperature, but feeling hotter still in the full sun). Even some of the French competitors were flaking out by the road side, some with medical crew on hand. A medical support crew on one section asked me if I was OK (did I look ready to collapse?). I asked for some sun cream, but they didn't have any.
The three leaders in each class had riders in front of them on bikes to prime the crowds, but the support that I and every other competitor got was just as amazing. Unofficial water and food stops were also welcome, some with huge buckets of cool water in which to fill your hat before drenching yourself others with cold sponges to shove down your neck. Oddly going downhill was the hardest bit due to my thigh muscles, already tired from the bike ride now having to power me around the run (the change in running style causing this transfer of load). Still I was moving and soon I was approaching 21kms and the return past the finishing line to collect a token neckband to indicate I was on my second lap. My second 10kms had slowed a bit to 1 hour 12 minutes, but being on the second lap was a huge boost. On the run I gradually sipped isostar and water from my camelback I also consumed more bananas and rice pudding, but the sheer volume of energy gels, bananas, and fluid now consumed seemed to cause my stomach to go on strike. I had to remind myself to drink more, to avoid overheating.
Suddenly I heard a friendly voice from behind me, Simon had caught me up again and he had support from his wife and son who were riding some of the sections along side him. His wife then accompanied me for most of the last section as Simon had support from a local marathon runner who volunteered to run with him. Once again I changed places several more times with Simon but the presence of someone to talk to made the kms pass far more easily. Even though my legs felt at times as if they were ready to collapse under me, I just knew I must not stop or I'd seize up and that would be it. So passing feed stations I walked and grabbed for items rather than stopping. Just 10kms to go now and I was pretty sure I would make that, even though I'd slowed to 1 hour 16 mins for the last 10 kms. At times I barely seemed to be shuffling, but my pace actually held up over the final sections around the swimming lake once more. Some runners on this section were heading out without the neckband, they still had the full run to go. I was also thinking of Alistair, despite seeing Simon on many occaisions, I had not seen Alistair since the start (I had started the bike ride just a few seconds before he finished the swim), I hoped that he was still going strong.
Not far now, just a couple of kms, then the run around the transition area before the final stretch of blue carpet and the finish line. Emma, Alfie and Matty were there to cheer me on along with hundreds of other supporters. 14 hours and 30 mins after starting I had made it. Over the line my medal and finisher's teeshirt were thrust into my hands and I staggered around barely able to think what to do! I saw a chair and tried to sit down, This I found impossible as spasms in my thighs prevented me lowering myself down even a few inches. Then I saw Laura, one of the officials who spoke English and who we had talked to the day before. She seemed surprised to see me (you have finished alreadY?!) "Go for a massage" she said and pointed the medical tent where a welcome lie down for a few minutes and a massage really helped.
Run time 4 hours 58 mins
Daylight faded away as I waited with Emma for Alistair, the other COLT member. Figures appeared out of the darkness to rapturous applause. Then there was Alistair, looking good up the final few metres, meaning we had both completed our first Ironman distance race well inside the cut-off time. All too soon it was the next morning and we were making our way with tired legs to the crystal clear waters of the swimming lake, to cool our aching muscles and compare our experiences before a lakeside coffee and croissant. There was a lot to remember!
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Thanks to Iain Coleand Trevor Fleet for healing me so quickly!, the Sports Physio in Milnthorpe, the support crew of Emma, Matty and Alfie for being so patient, Jill and Paul for a stop over on the way down to Embrun, and of course to Barbs for allowing me to put in so much of the required training time over the previous few months.
Thanks also to COLT - without some of those tough training sessions and encouragement I think it would not have been possible.
Ironman UK 2009 by John Carr
Obvious statement but what a bloody long day. Managed to get a reasonable amount of sleep the night before, however no alarm clock was needed. I woke naturally exactly a minute before my alarm was meant to go off at 3am. Last year at Sherbourne I was dancing around the B+B at 2am munching porridge like there was no tomorrow. This year I am a little older and wiser as I definitely knew what lay ahead of me. I also wanted to make sure a wasn’t running around like a blue-arsed fly wasting my energy like I did last year. 2008 was done on pure adrenaline and emotion, this year I really wanted to race with some level of control that Coach had been trying to teach me. Im a bit of a geek but my breakfast was weighed out exactly to give me 3000 calories, nerves got the better of me and I managed to squeeze only ¾ down my gullet.
Jumped in the car and put on the standard CD that I listen to before every race and early morning training session with the Big Mac. A combo of Eminem, Jay-Z and some drum n bass. Good job Honda’s are built pretty solid as it got a fair thumping from me drumming my fists and screaming some motivational thoughts out. As COLT has a young audience I won’t repeat what was said but imagine and a mixture of Gordon Ramsay, Captain Mason and an All Blacks pre-game Hakka.
Arrived into transition to find the fellow COLTS were also in the sheep-pen cacking themselves. Asked Dave Wilson if I could use his bike pump to make sure the tyres were at 100 bar?????!!! No John its 100 psi. Seemed to make everyone laugh and lighten the atmosphere for a couple of seconds.
5.45am and everyone was heading down to the reservoir, learned last year that IMUK like making everyone tread water for at least 10 minutes. Decided to hang around the back of the queue and get in with a few minute to spare. Glad I did as the water was pretty cold and I didn’t want to set off in the washing machine freezing my arse off. Placed my self at the very front in the middle of the pack.
‘Make sure you give it some beans and get some clear water, then settle into a cruise’
For me this is the best part of the day, I love open water and it went past a little too quickly. Wanted it to be as relaxed as possible, so that I could do what I had been taught. Get faster as the day went on. The only annoyance I had was someone in front of me who had the most violent style I have ever seen. Don’t think I have ever seen so much kicking it was like swimming behind a P&O Ferry! Decided to drop a gear and get past him. 1hr 8 minutes later I was out and jogging up into transition.
Next up the bike. This where I really wanted to make an improvement, last year cycling was embarrassing. I remember vividly an October morning last year that thought me a BIG lesson. I went out with the ‘3 tenors’ (Captain, JK and Big Mac) for what was meant to be an easy 3 hour ride. After going up Jubilee and then through the Hodder valley I was chewing off my handle bars trying to keep up with them. I had no climbing strength and I couldn’t decend any quicker than 30 mph before jumping on the brakes, when I got back home I collapsed by the fridge scoffing jam straight out of the jar like some lycra-clad Winney The Poo. Basically I was crap. Thanks to a lot of Thursday morning rides with the Big Mac and some TT with Kent Valley R.C I had built a reasonable foundation to hopefully do a quicker bike split.
Somehow managed to lose my drinks bottle on one of the bumps heading out of the Anderson Centre. Was a bit concerned as it contained my energy drink that was mixed up into a syrup of 1500 calories so that I could squeeze it into my aero bottle and sip as I needed. Oh well Gatorade and Powerbars it is then. Also munched on a pack of ride shots every lap and after 80 miles I had 4 of my favourite Smart 1 gels. Don’t drink tea or coffee at all so these hit me like a ton of bricks. 54miles to go and I heard my back wheel go ‘ping’ stopped to find my brand new Sram wheel has lost a spoke, consequently buckling the wheel big time. Carried on and thought about what I could do. Felt the wheel rubbing the break so I stopped again to fiddle with the break. Saw John Knapp in Addlington he assured me the wheel will be fine. Took his word for it and finally decided to get an allen key and open the back break wide open. Learned that it is possible to ride with no breaks, all fear of crashing had been forgotten.
‘If I have to carry this bike I will finish’
Lost about 20 minutes in total but was happy to be still in the race and starting the marathon after a 6hr 30min split. This is the moment where I did start thinking about possible finish time. I always found it a dangerous game to play when people ask you ‘what time you going for?’ I always like to answer ‘better than last years 13hours 10min’
There is nothing noble in being superior to others, True nobility is being superior to ones previous self.
But if you looked at my training room and PC at work you will find a lot of post-it notes with every target for 2009 to constantly remind me of why I do this. I honestly thought I had 11hrs 30min within me. After the wheel incident that was only possible with a 3hr 30min marathon. My target all this year had been to run a 4hr split. Better get your foot down John Boy.
Camelbak on and 8 Smart 1 gels to munch every 20-30 minutes. Strapped my right knee up and put on my compression stockings that the Beca had bought me. This is where I would find out what I was made of. Over the 3 months I had been coached by Mark Walsh on what has felt like a crash course to kick start me into action after a 4 month spell of doing complete laziness. He had really pushed my legs to the limit and I am glad he did. I was expecting every ache and pain, it wasn’t a surprise and I knew it was there. The run course had no mile markers so pacing by time and distance was going to be a challenge. I decided that my heartrate was good at 145bpm, so keep it there and don’t stop. With around 13miles to go I noticed my stopwatch had been stopped. Oh bugger now my timing is knackered!
Got to the turn for the final 8 miles at 4.40pm. So I thought if I can cross the line before 6pm that would be respectable 12hrs. I nailed the last couple of gels and gave it everything I had. My right knee was now impossible to ignore but I thought unless my leg drops off there is no reason why I can’t do this. I got into my little bubble and thought of nothing but a constant count of 1-2-3-4. Noticed a few athletes in front that were in my age group, was pretty chuffed to tick off all 3 of them in the last few miles. Finally I can actually run a marathon, what a day to find this out.
The support on the run was unreal, you can have all the gadgets and gels in the world but when someone shouts out ‘Come on COLT!’ or ‘Go on John Carr!’ from Captain Mason it is literally indescribable. Il will be honest but I cried A LOT on that final lap. Came out of Queens Park and up the side streets at 6.04pm, oh well John you gave it a good crack but its not going to be sub 12 this year. Still pushed hard to make it as quick as possible. Saw Big Mac jnr (aka Jessica) who cheered me on, gave her the Camelbak as I didn’t want the lads to see me crossing the finish line looking like a mountain biker! I have had some stick for it over the past year!.
Came round the final corner to the best sight in the world a massive 60 ft screen with the camera zoomed on me and the clock reading 11hrs 53minutes! I had done it sub 12hrs, we must have started late. You beauty! As quite a few COLT supporters saw I went ballistic. My mate Gareth who was a volunteer on the finish line spotted me giving me a pat on the back ‘ You did it mate’.
11 hours 53 minutes 23 seconds! Ave It!
I was given the standard medal, t-shirt and to top it all off the elusive Ironman hat. I had no idea I was in the top 250, it all got a bit too much. I fell on my arse and cried like those idiots on X Factor! What a woman.
In hindsight I got a little more than I felt I deserved. From January to April I was in a pretty low spot thinking I should pull out of Ironman as I wont beat last years time. I had worked very hard for the last three months with Mark Walsh who is by far the best £40 a month I will ever spend. If there is anyone reading this who wants to hear some words of wisdom all I got is this….
There are no miracles or flukes in Ironman, if you’re a Pro or last in your age group all that indicates is how much quality and effort you put in. I wont happen over night. If you want to see what you are really capable of, get a coach. For the cost of a meal out with the missus it’s a bargain.
Thank you to everyone in COLT who supported us at Bolton, it’s a very special feeling knowing that your part of a team. I am sure that COLT will continue to grow and the famous black and white kit will become a symbol of success striking fear into the hearts of all that try and take us on !!! Tri Preston??? Who are ya, who are ya ! ha ha
Ironman UK 2009 by Mark Hammond
What a journey……
E-9 months: Middle of a nightshift after 3 years of talking, decide to send the email to the boys Loz & Dave ‘Ive decided to enter the big one’!!!
E-8 months: Cancel that, buying a house project instead….
E-6 months: House project fallen through…. Need something to pick me up. Yes, still places left in IMUK; I’m back in the game. The rollercoaster begins.
E-1 week: Tired, de-motivated, nervous, hungry, knees aching, head aches; how can tapering feel so bad?
E-1day: Registered, bike racked; very nervous, just want to get it done. Get to bed 2100 hrs read my SAS book for an hour (figured they must have it harder than me), light out, still not tired, heart feels like its bouncing off the ceiling, sweat pouring off me; really need to get some sleep. 2 paracetamol & codeine down the neck read for another 30 mins finally feeling drowsy.
E-0 IMUK 2009: Alarm goes off 0245 hrs; nooo feel like haven’t slept a wink. Say goodbyes my darling Sarah, hope will not be too long before see her again. Picked up 0315 hrs, Rocky 4 blasting through the speakers; oh yes feeling back in the zone. Get to Bolton, its cold even before getting anywhere near the water. Touch base with the boss Mason and fellow COLTS, lots of nervous energy flowing.
SWIM: The start is delayed by a few minutes it’s dark, cold, long and deep. Got a nice rhythm going, nice and steady-it’s a long way. Get to first turn point, blimey the wash from other swimmers is a lot choppier than I’d expected, shortened arm stroke and back on it again. Lap 1 done-crikey it’s a long way. Two thirds into lap 2 pass a couple of the pink hat brigade (pro’s); yes-calm it down. Crawl out of the drink marshals help me up, walk up the steep ramp (too tired to run) stones stabbing feet. Get to T1, half dressed and Davey boy enters changing area (awesome swim mate).
BIKE: Out of transition bike feels good, down causeway 40mph with crowds both sides, spot Sarah and my parents, well happy now!! 15 secs later the hill gives me a reality check, there’s Stretch-can’t let him down, keep going. Top of hill comes quicker than expected, looking forward to descent with road closed (can give it big licks); woooooo 46.4mph, buzzing. Left at Belmont, oh no, head wind all the way, check heart rate ooops 171 bpm (limit was 160bpm). Feeling sorry for myself then fellow COLTs part way up last hill of lap 1 get me back on track (like music to my ears)- cheers Andy & the Knapps.
Lap 2-keep to the plan: HR <160 bpm, gel every 30 mins, drink, drink, drink and powerbar every aid station. Looking forward to the mighty COLT support crew again- fantastic they got me up the hill.
Lap 3 legs getting fatigued, back hurting, ass killing, dying to get off the bike. Big boss Mason comes past looking strong. Last 20 miles seem to take forever.
RUN: Out of transition start running and the Cracker coming in off the bike (lots of shouting at each other). Worried going too quick, need to slow it down-it’s a long, long way. Oh know 1.5hrs down, I’m entering the world I’ve been dreading, feels like somebody has put lead in my shoes. If I walk for a bit nobody will notice…. Next minute my family and friends shouting at me, can’t let them down, can’t walk-keep going. 20mins later the life saver Stretch keeps me going again and clarifies the route. Last lap get to aid station, not going on coke yet, Danny boy thanks for getting me up the hill. Next aid station so looking forward to the coke and a caffeine rush…. Noooo it must have been caffeine free, the long needed rush never came. Then I got to the park for the last time and I’d swear you’d hear the mighty COLT supporters in Lancaster (brilliant). Get to marshall and he asked what lap, I grin as I say 2nd lap and he directs me left turn, next marshall I ask him how far- less than 1 mile. WOW THIS IS IT MARK. Last 200 metres Sarah & Dad shouting and run me along, I’m speeding up, hell I’m sprinting, hell still got 50 metres to go….. Can hear so many people shouting, it feels good can see my time on finish line.
They announce my name and tell me I’m an IRONMAN wooooooow IT FEELS SO ACE.
A big thank you to all the COLT support on the day I definitely wouldn’t of done it without you all. A massive thank you to the previous COLT Ironmen (Richard, Chris, JK, Val, Andy Mc, Andy Holgate, JC) that offered me a whole wealth of knowledge & experience; I only hope I can do the same for people in the future.
TOTAL TIME: 11 hrs 1 min POSITION 83rd.
Ironman UK 2009 by Loz Loxam
A new respect for marathons...
Those words mean a lot to me. Its a bit like being beaten by the toughest lad at school but in the end, if you stand up to him you kind of find a mutual respect for one another. I kind of feel like that after the UK Ironman.
The morning seemed to go to plan. I woke at 3am (amazing, I even had to train to get up earlier, steadily going to bed half an earlier each day & getting up in half an hour earlier each morning), was picked up and after what seemed like the longest drive of my life arrived at a dark Rivington.
The walk to T1 was long, dark & cold and I was much happier once I was starting to get the suit on. I'd managed to do some last minute changes to my transition strategy which really helped me stay calm. What with all the rain I'd dug out some old trainers so I had a fresh pair to get me to T1 & another pair to get me to the road with the bike without getting my tri shoes covered in mud (my 2nd pair died with great honour for a great cause!).
The swim had gone well and although I should really of been quicker I was happy I was on the bike without any mishaps. The bike seem to fly by, I think due to the fact I was lucky enough to know the course. My trusty steed did me proud esp seeing I gave £600 for her 5yrs ago & it gave me great pleasure dropping a fella who had been trying to pass me for the first 2 laps. It was anything against him it was the fact one of his wheels alone was worth more than my baby! It just goes to show the engine is the most important part of any bike.
The first lap I was on fire but going into the 2nd lap I got the dreaded stomach cramps & they never left me until I got on the run. I'm not sure why the came as during my training I didn't suffer from them. It didn't ruin the ride for me it just made me sit up more rather than going aero.
The run. Who ever invented marathon's? Why couldn't they make it 20miles? I've done a few half marathon's and although they were tough they didn't break me. Ironman marathon's, now that broke me. The only way I could describe how I was feeling was I felt like an old banger driving down a very long cobbled road and slowly but surely parts start to fall off. I'm sure I lost a knew and an ankle on that run!
I have to admit, I just didn't have that distance in my legs but I have learnt so much in my 13hrs & 26minutes & after analysing my times (yep, you know the feeling) I know I could cut my time by 30mins with out training any harder or any longer. I've definitely learnt from my mistakes...
Respect the marathon
the way I see it, I can only go quicker next time....
Ironman UK 2009 by Simon Devereux
After the disappointment of pulling out after 18miles on the run at Sherborne in 2008 I had pretty much decided that my one successful venture into IM in 2005 would have to be it. That would have remained the case had Steve S not texted me in December as I was on the way home from my works Christmas do with the news that this year’s IM was to be in Bolton. It’s amazing how a gallon of bitter can dull the memory, so no sooner than I had got home a few clicks of the mouse and I was entered.
I’m afraid a 20 hour training week is out of my reach, so my plan was to do enough to get round. If I was to score myself on how well training had gone, it would probably have to be a 7 out of 10. Prior to the race I was reasonably happy with the bike, running is usually my strongest discipline, but my main concern was the swim. Having had cramp on the swim at Sherborne in 2005, (and on numerous occasions since in the pool) it has become something of an issue for me.
Anyway in brief the race:
Swim:
A new record even for me, cramp in my lower calf as I crossed the start line, hung onto the end of a canoe for a minute thinking that was the end of my IM comeback. Captain’s advice, RELAX, eventually it passed off. I looked up and could see the field disappearing into the distance. Even at my slow pace I managed to catch the back end of the field. Rounded the first turn, seemed to take an age to get to the second buoy. On the edge of getting cramp a number of times but managed to keep going, what a relief to get out of the water. A kind helper suggested a foil blanket would be a good idea as I shivered whilst trying to get my bike gear on, eventually got out on the bike. Swim time 1hr 52mins. (30 mins slower than my 2005 swim time)
Bike:
Unspectacular and a little disappointed with my time having ridden the course a dozen times. (I was hoping for less than 7 hours). Still after my escapade on the swim I was just glad to be still in the race. Fantastic COLT support on the way round at various points that kept me going. 14 gels on the bike, 8 bottles of high five 4:1, too many pee stops (sorry the speed I go can’t get my head round the idea of peeing whilst on the bike. I think you have to be wearing a pointy helmet to justify doing that) Bike time 7hrs 18mins
Run/Shuffle:
Got off the bike, felt ok, ups and downs. Only walked on the uphill bits in the park and some aid stations.There’s no doubt that since it started COLT, has gathered momentum and for me yesterday encapsulated everything that is good about being a member. As I think back about the race and run in particular, it seemed like every time I got to a low ebb I would be met by a shout of “COME ON COLT”. The support from numerous people at different parts of the course was exceptional. Many of those who were there didn’t have relatives in the race and were there to support their fellow COLT members. I’m sure I speak for all those who raced in saying a big THANKS! Run 4hrs 36mins
TOTAL TIME 14hrs 10mins 44
Undoubtedly there will be a lot said about issues around the venue/organisation /mud, which I will leave to the Captain to articulate. For me strangely none of that seems to matter now.
Ironman UK 2009 by Chris Wild
The background
In 2007 I did my first Ironman UK, and it didn’t go quite to plan; I went into the race with a very tender left IT band, which finally tore 11 miles into the marathon. 3½ hours walking along a dual carriageway on a cold Dorset day was not what I’d dreamt of, but I finished in a respectable 12:25ish. I presumed I wasn’t up to 2 Ironman races in one year (leave that to the tough guys, John, Richard, and Steve). So 2008, I stuck to just the one. Come race weekend last year, despite awful conditions, I really missed being part of the team. 2009 was going to be different. I didn’t imagine how differently it would unfold.
I remember getting a text from Loz, late November 2008, whilst sat in the dentist’s waiting room - Ironman UK 2009 will be in Bolton. Bolton? Lancashire? Oh My God. Get home; enter. I’m so excited; and with our own club looking like becoming a reality, this was going to be awesome. Pretty soon, we’ve got a thriving new club, with 15 members signed up for the race. There’s definitely going to be some healthy rivalry, and a bit of pressure for the old guard to perform. Ironman Lanzarote didn’t go quite to plan (they never do), having tweaked my knee due to a maladjusted new saddle (fool). Still, scraped a new PB, and a sub 11:30, so overall overjoyed; main course completed - now to focus on the dessert, IMUK.
10 weeks to prepare. I’d earned a week off; 9 weeks - get out on the bike. People go past me up the hills like I’m in treacle; I get most of them on the descent, but really need to work on the climbing. Luckily I’m working in Carlisle, and although its long days on site, the weather’s great, and I find a good hilly bike ride into the north lakes to do 2 nights during the week. Working away messes up the swim sessions, and my knees are still a bit sore to run. 6 weeks to go, time to run. Monday night, good 4 mile run with a friend; legs feel fine. Time to ramp it up. Not sure racing the half at ‘Day in the Lakes’ a good idea though. I’ll run some more and decide on Friday.
The crisis:
Wednesday 24th June 2009: some of the lads having a kick about in the park after work. I’ll join in, for a bit of speedwork, core work and fun, then I’ll run for 10k afterwards. It not serious, just a good way to get the HR up. I wuss out of anything approaching a tackle, and people know not to clatter me. I’m a feeble vegetarian after all! A quick sprint down the wing, burning off everyone - this is great. Cross the ball (useless attempt on goal), tumble over. My left knee pops. No bother it does it occasionally, straighten slowly and it’ll click back; really must sort my IT band out so its stops pulling my knee cap out of alignment. It wont go back, and I can’t straighten my leg! Give it a few minutes, a few stretches and manipulations, but no joy. Off to A&E. 3 hours later, I’ve had an X-ray, which shows its not broken or dislocated (my probable diagnosis - pop it back in, I’ll be fine!). The junior doctor has no clue, gives me a pair of crutches, and an appointment for the fracture clinic the following morning.
Very nice bloke in the clinic. Thankfully he has a mate into extreme sports, so knows where I’m coming from and what triathlon is. Forget ADIL on Sunday. We talk medical history, he pushes and bends my leg through various levels of pain, and diagnoses a medial meniscal tear. It appears I’ve had a small tear for a while - hence the popping, which is nothing to do with a displaced knee cap after all. Now I’ve got a big tear, and part of the torn bit is stuck in the joint, preventing it straightening. Two choices - keyhole surgery, or wait and see. He thinks the fragment may remove itself, and would like to wait 12 days and re-assess then, when there will be less swelling and blood (nice). I’m keen to avoid surgery, as all I can think about is ‘5½ weeks to Ironman’. I feel sick - I’m properly injured, and I’ve messed up the season, if not my knee for good. I’m reliant on other people to do stuff for me, and I get thrown off site! I’m not used to not being in control.
‘Impossible is nothing’
(One of World Triathlon Corporation’s strap lines/ merchandising gimmicks). I had obviously asked if I could race in under 6 weeks (I didn’t mention the distance, for fear of ridicule and hearing the wrong answer), and the reply was ‘doubtful, but if things go well, you might be OK, if we don’t need to operate. Right, that’s it; its medically possible, so stay optimistic. I went to the open water swim session the following Monday, to confess my stupidity; how many times have I been told that triathlon and football is asking for trouble? Its feeling a bit easier by this point, and I’m optimistic its now just swelling that’s stopping me straightening my leg. By my appointment the following week, I can straighten it, and I’m hobbling around without crutches. The doc is pleased that surgery isn’t required, and that I can get back on the bike. I can swim with my ankles taped together, and can cycle on the flat without any problem. 3 weeks to go. Time to see if I can climb sheep House Lane. I get a very relieved ‘yes’, but the whole lap is 25 minutes slower than previously, but who cares? I’m still limping, so haven’t contemplated running. One step at a time, so to speak! 2 weeks to go - try two laps; the first one goes well, but half way round the second, I’m exhausted. I realise I have two new problems; my endurance base is vanishing, and my appetite hasn’t abated, I’ve been comfort eating, and I’m 6kg over race weight! 10 days to go. A test run; run for a minute, walk for a minute. I think I can be off the bike by 9 hours into the race, so I reckon I can get through the marathon in time. By Sunday I’m running 5 to 1 at proper race pace. 1 week to go - bring it on!!!
Race week
Take it easy; I want my knee rested. I spend all my spare time shopping and printing T-shirts, so no running or cycling. I didn’t even clean my bike until Saturday morning. Manage to get to a pre-race swim on Friday, and its disturbing - a lap took me 45 minutes! Time to rethink race times. I was relieved to hear other people think the course is long; I thought I was just fat and unfit!
Bike check-in and race briefing are chaotic. I’m lucky that I have no race ambitions, so I can just take all the upheaval in my stride - it’s the same for everyone, what will be, will be, and its all out of my control.
Race day.
2:15 alarm. Drag myself out after pressing snooze twice. Tea, cereal, and a bottle of PSP. Check I’ve got everything, and off to Reebok; I’m wide awake. Parked up, and straight on the bus at 3:45. Very impressed. Rob’s waiting outside, so he can get a later bus with his girlfriend. He looks slightly nervous, but I can’t attract his attention. Bus sets off, then stops at the Millstone Pub - we’ve got to carry everything 1 mile up the hill to transition. Cheers. I’m glad I got the early bus. My knee twinges; maybe compression leggings weren’t a good idea. Really easy passage through number marking, sort my bike bottles, attach shoes to bike (not for speed, just for mud avoidance) then chill. I love this part; standing calmly watching the rushing about, knowing I’m ready. Its warm and calm. Wetsuit on, find some COLTs. 8 or 9 of us meet up by the fence; the banter is good, the Captain looks focused. People are already recognising me as the ‘guy in 220 magazine’. It happened about 10 times around the course - its tough being a celebrity! Time to go.
We get held on the footpath for 20 minutes, and get onto the jetty at 5:55. The announcer insists we’re off at 6, so get in. Great, no point hanging around. I normally head wide right, but that’s the entry, so get tight in on the left - this could be fun! 10 minutes later, people are still coming down the path; I’m treading water and cold. Finally, the three minute warning, and I’ve got space. Weird.
We’re off. Plenty of space; too much space, I need a tow! Busy round the top buoy, but good humoured - I must be slow. 15 minutes on the watch - much better than Friday. I count the huge buoys down the course, and get into a lazy rhythm. Half way round the second lap, I realise it’s a bit too lazy and increase the stroke rate and start overtaking people. This is brilliant. Out in 1:20, my worst ever, but happy with that. Smooth transition, get the bike, hose the mud off my feet, and get them in my shoes just before the descent to the causeway. The first climb hurts; all that time in the water means my muscles are cold, and there’s no opportunity to warm them up. There’s a guy on a steel frame, with a 73 tooth chainring grinding up. Must be a yank! Great to see Steve at the top. Lost 3 gels out my pocket at Belmont, rethink nutrition. Saw Fi with the flag at the M65 turn; fantastic. No sign of Dad, something must be up. The knee is tender but OK, but my left back/ is sore. And A wasp has stung my neck. Good job I’m not allergic. Pace is good, keep the HR sensible. Don’t bite when guys go past. It was really nice to see Phil and the Tri Preston crew manning the 2nd aid station. Organised bottles, and encouragement too. Thanks guys.
By the time I’m over the M6, I’ve got guys on my back wheel; they’re not going to qualify, so who cares, but it still bugs me! I get the turn into Flag lane horribly wrong, having never done it without giving way to oncoming traffic. I go very wide into the gravel on the layby, but don’t lose speed. The guy drafting me locks his back wheel, and I hear a shout behind, as the third guy in line screeches to a halt in the gravel. Serves them right. I pull over at my usual gateway 100m down the lane for a leak, and watch them go by, still doing the team time trial (minus 1, who probably had a leak of his own). The 3rd aid station is chaos; I dumped my nearly empty water on the way in, but the lovely older folks from the rotary club, didn’t offer me a replacement. Stay calm, they’ve given up their day and are doing a pretty good job; I’ve got plenty of fluid, so just press on. Huge boost at Adlington as the main COLT support crew yelled me up the hill. Averaging over 30kph, but aching from both thighs all the way around my lower back - I’m out of shape! Lap 2 goes well; I’m still moving through the field, but I’m slowing slightly.
A six hour bike was never realistic, 6:15 will do. Hang on round the 3rd lap. I’m hurting, but so is everyone; I just make it up Sheep House Lane, with Richard’s “how can you call that a hill after Lanzarote?” going through my mind! 15k to go and a bee hits my helmet, bounces off, and stings my thigh. At least it gives me something else to think about. I passed Mark P shortly afterwards, he was going well, on his way to a good time. Final time through Adlington, where the COLT crew are losing their voices already, but still make one hell of a noise - John’s not done the training for this!
A steady transition, knee support on. It’s the moment of truth, and I’ve got the ridiculous notion of going close to 4 hours for a sub-12 hours. Surely not? I Force myself to do my 1 minute walks, despite the crowds, which gives me chance to stretch my right hamstring, which isn’t enjoying all the extra work its been doing for 7 hours (its been threatening to cramp since lap 2 on the bike). I hour in, its quite hot (!), but I’ve done 10.5k. That’s 4 hour pace. Two runs later, my knee starts to hurt. I thought it was too good to be true. The hilly sections were taking their toll, so shorter runs, longer walks, and no running on steep bits was required. Look after the knee and I’ll finish. Job done. Got down onto the cycle path and soon saw the Captain looking strong, coming the other way. Good job I was in a running moment! Next up was Mark H. Awesome; we knew he’d go well. The good thing with taking it easy, was that I could stop for a kiss from the mrs; never managed that during a race before! Back down the main road to the park, where the COLT crew had gained numbers and were in great voice.
The drag back up to Horwich was tough, and my knee was sore. The highlight was abuse from the captain as he stormed towards the finish ‘get a move on hippy!’. I sat on a wall for a couple of minutes and urged Andy Mc on as he came by, still looking as fresh as when I saw him an hour or so earlier! I hope that telling him he wasn’t far behind Mark, spurred him on to an excellent marathon split. I took the strapping off my knee for a while, which helped, and once at the top of the hill, I got running again, so put it back on. By the turn, I was feeling OK, and was back to 4 and 5 minute runs. About 9 miles to go, 90 minutes left to go sub 12:30. Go for it. Saw Loz on his way back up, looking determined, and pretty cheerful. Mental arithmetic all the way back to the park, and met all the remaining COLTs on the way. Its going to be a full house of finishers - top effort guys. Out the park, and I reckon there’s 2k to go. Andy’s daughter Jessica is there, and tells me its just around the corner to the finish. She’s been brilliant all weekend, and that was the icing on the cake. She ran with me to the corner - I was probably holding her back!
I turned the corner into the home straight and saw Fi and her mum with the COLT union flag on the barriers in the distance. High fives with the brilliant COLT support, then grab the flag, and down the chute in a moment of pure cheesyness! Apparently it didn’t look too cringe-worthy on the 40ft screen! Medal, T-shirt, then quickly out to thank everyone for helping me around, and cheer home the others. The support was still ongoing in the town hall, with Janey looking after us. I felt bad leaving before John brought the club day to a fantastic close, but I didn’t get home until after midnight as it was. If I’d known he was so close behind Rob and Kevin, I’d probably have stayed. I presume John is in the ‘never again’ category, as we’re all those finishing behind me - with the exception of Rob, who was so enthusiastic for the next one it was amazing! I’m sure he won’t be the only one going long again.
Of course I’m happy with 12:19. If I’d been offered that at the start of June, I’d be disappointed, but 5 weeks later, I’d have thought you were joking. I’ve learnt a lot about myself and my friends over the last few weeks, but that’s part of the point of Ironman. I’d like to thank you all for your support and frank advice; we all need checks and balances.
My two overriding memories of IMUK 2009: firstly the obvious fight to get to the start line, and then perform to the best of that ability. Secondly, and most importantly, I’ll remember it as a club event. We dominated the support - so many people commented on it, and we nearly had 1% of the competitors. And the club hasn’t had its 1st birthday yet! I’m really proud of everything about this club, from the athletes to the supporters. Thank you all so very much.
Lanzarote 2010 anyone?
Ironman UK 2009 by John Gilbert
So, mentally, I decide it’s just not worth the terror at my time of life and in my mind I pull off my goggles and cap and start to shoulder my way back up the ramp. Curiously, my physical body moves down the steps and slips into the water – impressed by this small act of courage, my mind rejoins it before it drowns. Those impossibly boring sixty-minute continuous swims at TF are justified as there’s no great physical effort – just the psychological terror – and after the first lap, I get a flush of well-being as I realise I’m going to make the swim. And I do, in 1:32. I could so easily have been phoning Viv and the kids to tell them it’s off and I’m on my way home. Subsequently to face expulsion from the club and eternal humiliation from Captain Mason. Swim done, I’ve only one objective – to finish in under seventeen hours – nothing else matters. The heart-rate monitor is my god and under one-four-five its sole commandment. Pretty much I obey, Sheep house lane excepted. Feel fine, spin up the hills, freewheel down, take in the views and savour the day. I’m going to be an Ironman. Maybe. Since I’d trained on Gatorade/bananas/Powerbars and gels, I’m a bit fazed to find the bike stations have no bananas. By the third lap, creeping nausea and a deep hatred of sweet things is getting a grip. I ate 5 Powerbars and 4 gels. Every lap I get off and urinate like a racehorse, so that’s a good sign. Bike split was 8:10 – still plenty of time for the marathon – leaves about 7.5 hours and even I can do that. A nasty surprise as I get off the bike, my feet feel like there are marbles taped under the ball of each foot and it’s painful to take a step. Potentially race-ending this and it takes me by surprise as I’d no idea what it was. Andy McCracken has since explained it’s because my shoes aren’t stiff enough and the pedal presses through the sole into the ball of the foot. I’m relieved to find I can sort of walk and yet disappointed as I’d practised my bike to run transitions in training and mainly overcome the wooden-legged feeling. I had fully expected to be striding out at this point at about 10 minute miles to put in a 4:30 marathon – no chance. The following 5 hours and 10 minutes seemed to take forever yesterday, but it wasn’t so bad really – I can honestly say I never considered giving up. I met a lot of nice people from different places and the locals were great in their support. This was an event where the voluntary workers far outshone the professional organisers. Lots of local people outside their gardens offering drinks which of course I politely declined for fear of disqualification. Have you ever seen an angel? A real one, I mean, not like on the Christmas cards? I have. It was at the aid station at mile 22 when I couldn’t even contemplate eating or drinking anything when the Angel, in the guise of a rather short, male, sixty-something Boltonian offered me a small plate of cocktail sausages. They were so good to eat and, double-whammy, made me just a bit thirsty so I sipped on some water. This Ambrosia brought me round a bit and made the last 3 miles easily the most enjoyable of the day. I’ll never forget jogging the last two miles through the park in the dusk with the glow of the lamps with the perfect aroma of the Elderberry and the cool evening air. I’ve spent the last 15 hours wishing it was done and now I want it to last a bit longer. Priceless memories, forever life-affirming, often to be revisited. In just a minute this tranquillity is replaced by the brash glitzy and thumping music of the finish, neon-lit, big style. I wince at the idea of high-fiving people I’ve never met and I’m grateful when the only taker is a small boy of about six. I concede this one and smack him a low-five. Contrary to what people have been telling me all day, I don’t bust into tears – the last time I cried the midwife did it. I’m not much on ceremony and quickly collect my bag and some water and sit on a bench outside where it takes 20 minutes to pull on my sweat pants and a T shirt and phone Viv and the kids who all sound much more emotional than I do. The kids are relieved, if I’d failed they would have had to change schools. Reflecting into the window of the shuttle bus (Get it?) the true magic of the day finally touches me. For about 20 years I have always believed I could never do an Ironman – I was good for a marathon, century rides, even 9 hour Fell runs but I always knew Ironman was beyond me. Now that I know that’s not true, what else is it that I truly believe is beyond me, is really within reach? One of the top ten days of my life – thanks for the help, support and advice over the last 7 months – COLT made an Ironman of me.
The hardest part was getting into the reservoir at 5:55 am. Open water swimming really spooks me, even at Carnforth, and this was much worse. There is a list of people’s greatest fears published in the USA and fear of deep water is ranked number four. Deep, dark, freezing water with a stiff chop and god knows what living in its depths is just about my worst nightmare.
Ironman Lanzarote 2009 by Richard Mason.
Race Day, IM Lanzarote 2009
4.00am. Alarm goes off. Slept well, no loud music from drunken Irish girls, in fact not a bad nights sleep. Kettle on, porridge & raisins soaked in water overnight, add milk and warm in pan. Feel ok, eat porridge. First cup of coffee ahh!! Sarah still in bed asleep, make her a cup of tea (ahh tea is shite in morning doesn't wake me up like coffee).Toilet.
Still naked, clean teeth and put favorite IM shorts on (old reliable), heart rate chest strap, 2xu vest, long sleeve cycle top to keep warm, more coffee, don't forget sunglasses to go in T1 bag (prat). Contemplate faking injury or illness to get out of race. More coffee.
Go & wake Sarah, Sarah wakes up & drinks tea . Eat two Gels & glass of water. Get bottles out of fridge with my favorite tipple; lime accelerade (don't forget the bottles prat). Wetsuit, goggles, cap, compression tights & socks for after the race. Sarah ready.
OK LETS GO. Walk to transition, still dark but no wind yet. Put bottles on bike and put sunglasses in T1 bag. Go back to bike check location position sighting markers. Give Sarah operational orders, kiss & farewell my lovely. Go to changing tent put on wetsuit meet with the Iron Hippy exchange pleasantries, zips me up and we say our farewells. Drop white bag in collection bin & walk to swim gate but not open yet.
6.15am Sit on pavement & rest, try to relax. Gates open, wait for rush to go. 6.25am Walk down beach to swim start. Get into water & warm up for 5 mins. Feel okay, quite pleasant even. Crowds forming in grandstand. 6.40am go to start line behind green inflatable arch and assume my position next to barrier. Go through swim strategy in my head. Hold the buoy line and get as close as possible, whatever happens must hold the buoy line. Five minutes to go and start line now packed. Everyone pushing & shoving but hold my place next to barrier. Growl at two young Spaniards pushing in, big Dutch man next to me joins in with his disapproval, Spaniards skulk away.
6.59am One minute to go. Oh no we’re off early. Hit stopwatch but it doesn't start. Hit it again. Running through the shallow water, got to get the buoy line. Start to swim, reach the buoy line. Lots of bodies, bang crash wallop! Try to relax and hold the line, remember nobody’s trying to kill you. Uh oh man stops on buoy line and big pile up ensues. Kicks to head, feet dragged down.
Reach first big yellow marker buoy. Mayhem as bodies everywhere. Not a single space of clear water. Bang crash wallop! Goggles knocked ajar, recover and adjust, resume full stroke, find some feet but too slow. Try and find feet again and stay relaxed but still too slow. Reach open water, no feet but somebody on my feet.
Make a left turn but no marker rope, change sighting to big red buoys & big white hotel on horizon, aim for left hand side. In clearer water now. Look for some feet. Pink cap girl? Green cap maybe? Is green cap a female pro? Try to pick up the pace, can see big yellow exit buoy for first lap. Keep the tempo up and exit onto the beach to start second lap. Exit water for end of second lap, check watch -65mins, uh oh! 2mins down on last year!
8.05am Run up matting and through showers. Nearly dislocate shoulder taking off wet suit. Set off up steep incline into transition, get bag and straight into changing tent. Helmet, sunglasses, socks. Deposit bag with helper and run for bike. Sarah stood by bike. ‘Hello Sarah I love you!’ Get shoes on and start pushing up to mount point.
8.10am I'm off and away peddling This is what I do best. Heart rate not working, it’s blank. Bastard! Still won’t work. Give it 5minutes to start working, need heart rate to work, can't race on feel alone, will go too hard. Head down promenade peddling into wind. Reach first big roundabout and then accelerate up incline towards Arrecife airport. Ah hah! Heart rate now working! 140 bpm, loud & clear. Uh oh too high, need to relax. Manage to get it down as go over bridge and onto first fast straight. Get the big gear turning. Grandmaster sat on shoulder telling me to rein it in but still at 140bpm. Is it jammed? Feel good, steady boy steady. Make the fast bits faster.
Down towards Puerto Calero roundabout and start to climb again. See first bloke with puncture and feel sorry for him. Have a drink and have a gel every 20mins. Getting into the routine; rip, squeeze, suck. Down towards El Golfo. Reach first aid station and grab water bottle. Three slurps then over head, got to keep cool. Pass Mark Procter. Me thinks his first few miles were far too quick, come on Mark! Overcast very windy, tries to rain. Hah! Pass the point of last years’ puncture, so far so good.
Big left turn and the road to Timafanya. Fire mountain disappears up into the distance before me. Heart rate at 137 bpm. That’s okay, try to relax; drink, rip, squeeze, suck – got to keep the routine. Reach the top and pass the camels down the other side, hit 45mph. Strong crosswinds, in fact a bit scary, wuh hooh! Need a wee…ah that’s better…now can concentrate.
Slight climb to Taigu. At next aid station change bottles and then turn left for La Santa. Fast bit as down hill. Big Swede all in white skin fit passes me. No way José! Hammer after him & pass him. La Santa village comes into view, slow down for speed bumps, crowds shouting support. On towards Famara, sun comes out & a strong side wind, hard to keep the bike straight .Turn left for Teguise and start to climb but wind behind and start to feel the heat of the sun. Climbing strongly check heart rate 140bpm, too high! JK on shoulder gives me a bollocking.
Dropping out of Teguise, down towards the start of the windmill climb. See the windmills in the distance. This isn’t a real climb! I'm a man from the mountains, real mountains! Hard Knott, Gummers Bummer, I eat mountains! We start to climb gradually but head on into wind. A French girl passes me ? What are you doing lady? Nobody passes me going up hill unless their name is Knapp or Pantani. Climb becomes steeper get out of the saddle to engage the quality muscle. Must keep the heart rate below 145bpm. French girl comes back to me & is spat out the back never to be seen again. That'll teach you young lady.
Finally starts to flatten off and start to pick the pace up again. Pass one of the women pros who has the most amazing muscular legs…c'mon concentrate! Start to descend through the hairpins to Haria and have my second wee as I freewheel downhill. Straight through Haria & start the climb to Mirador del Rio, wind behind me. 75 miles done & at last some downhill. Get aero & turn the big gear. Got to hold the heart rate at 135bpm, don't let it drop. Turn into the wind again for 2 miles. Got to keep focused got to keep pushing.
Turn onto rough road for 2miles, hope the bike holds together . Wind behind again now to push on for home. Start the descent for Puerto del Carmen. Hammer, hammer, hammer! Push the biggest gear you can, 53-11. Onto sea front and into T2. Yes! Made it 5hrs 55mins.
2.10pm Drop the bike and start to run. Legs feel okay. Get run bag, put sun visor on, don't change socks…big mistake…carry two gels in hand. I'm up & running onto the start of the marathon, lots of noise from the crowds. Sarah shouts & waves, she got it right, I love her. Heart rate 131bpm, must keep it above 130 to maintain a good pace.
All the other runners look good. No fat lads or plodders yet. Everybody looks smooth & efficient. Am I?
First leg out to turn around 25mins. Bang on target. Turn back to start with wind behind me, not so cool now, start to feel sick, drink more water to settle stomach. See the IRON HIPPY coming the other way and shout encouragement. As I come back towards the turnaround I see Mark Procter starting his first lap. I get first coloured band and it gives me a push to nail the 2nd lap. Catch up with Mark by first aid station and slow down to offer some advice & encouragement. Have my first coke fix washed down with water, yes! 5mins down the road it starts to work. Oh yes!! . Bella Comeford is coming the other way (women’s race leader). I am a lap behind, she must not catch me, she will not catch me.
A mountain bike comes past me with a sign attached (men’s 1st place). Bert Jammer, the race leader, comes into view on my shoulder. Not moving as fast as expected. On any other day, without 112 mile bike ride in my legs, I could hold his pace no problem, but not today. I quicken my pace for a while as I get the buzz off him. Will he win? Will I win my battle? More coke, more water, begin to belch, too much fizzy coke, feel sick. C’mon! Got to keep the heart rate up. Get to turn around point, still on target. This end of the course is much hotter than the other end, lack of wind I think.
Lots of plodders out on the course now, some loud music playing at one of the bars, some fat lads drinking cold beer, lucky bastards…but that will have to wait, got to nail these run splits. Feel quite strong up the little inclines, back down to turnaround point & collect 2nd band. Now at the half way point. 3hr 30mins, check sums in head, yes bang on schedule. C’mon you have to nail it, JK will be proud of you.
Time to get out the secret weapon; "THE IPOD SHUFFLE", once thought of as only for girls, fat lads & hippies but I am relaxing my views & my strict military training is a distance memory, I am becoming more wooly & liberal by the hour. ipod is installed & working, this is a very strange experience as never used one before in a race. I am in my own little world as the Kaiser Chiefs belt out into my ears. Don't over excite yourself old lad, next thing you'll be stopping for a cold beer. Got to stay calm. Turn around for last time & collect the yellow band. 6 miles to home & a 3.30 marathon. You have to nail it!
Johnny Cash comes on the ipod, I love Johnny Cash ," San Quinten you been hell to me", OH YEAH!!!! Water over head, got to keep pushing.
5.45pm Turn around, at far end now. I'm on my way home. Let’s nail it, don't give up on that time you lazy bastard. One mile to go. AC-DC come on with Rocker, oh what a finali. 500m left to go. Take out the ipod & smarten up. Sarah is near the finish, I hear her shout, I love her. Crowd is very noisy near the finish. The finishers’ funnel clock says 10.46. OH YES!!!!! Over the line, a good days work, 3hrs 33 mins for the marathon. A very happy boy.
THE END.