Swim – 0:33.12 (9th in AG)
T1 0:08.17
Bike – 3:20.49 (8th AG)
T2 – 0:03.06
Run – 1:48.70 (7th AG)
TOTAL – 5:53.45 (7th AG)
After spectating at this race last year and hearing good reports from friends and family who had raced before, I entered this race last Autumn. Its on my mums doorstep and I’m familiar with the area and the terrain so coupled with the fact it was “the toughest 70.3”, it was an irresistible draw. The £210 entry fee however was very resistible but I stumped up anyway as a group of us had decided to go.
The organisation has been mentioned in previous posts but its hard for those that hadn’t experienced it to get any sense of quite how bad it was. Wimbleball Lake is in a remote part of Exmoor and accessed by narrow, single track lanes. The race HQ are in fields, as is the car park. We queued for an hour to get into the car park on Saturday for the mandatory registration and bike racking. We queued for a further hour to register. We then queued for 2 hours to get out of the car park. When I say queue, I actually mean slip and slide in the quagmire that the car park had become (its as if they didn’t realise it was going to rain) as I helped push cars towards the top gate they (the Rotary club volunteers, who were actually doing the best job they could in a difficult situation) had decided to open to let us out. Which they were then told to close (by ironman officials). I don’t think anyone was going to listen to some jobsworth on the radio giving orders but not actually being bothered to come and help sort this mess out so we carried on pushing cars towards the gate regardless. I think there were a couple of reasons for the situation, too many people (iromnan greed), trying to use the same single track lanes to get cars out as well as in and the fact that 3 cars got fed up with queuing to get into the car park so they parked across the farmers access to his farm. He came back, got p1ssed off so left his truck in the lanes as a big “up yours” to us all. I don’t blame him to be honest.
Anyway, after a 5 hour round trip, a multi-car pushing pre race work out and a car (and a Lotte) covered in mud (and probably a not so small amount of cow poo) we eventually escaped, only time for a quick shower and dinner before turning in. I vowed to Andy that evening that I wouldn’t ever do this race again. And this was just the registration……
Well, race morning dawned, as it always does and we were off on the road after a quick brekkie. I was nervous about what would meet us at the race venue this morning so we had allowed extra time to queue to get in. I wasn’t that worried as I knew that if there was the same situation as the previous day then they would have to delay the start. But as it happened we were in transition about the time we had planned to be. It was cheering to see the bikes hadn’t blown away during the night and that everything was as I’d left it. Bottles and food on and get out of there. I don’t like faffing in transition more than necessary as I end up convincing myself I’ve not done something its far too late to do anyway so we headed off to get into our wetsuits. We were told to be ready in transition at 6.30 so they can walk us down to the swim start ready for the off at 7am. At 7.15 they eventually take us down and its nice to be moving as I had got pretty cold waiting around in a wetsuit and bare feet standing in mud. It was about to get a whole lot worse however as we entered the water. Jeeeeeee. Zus. It was cold. So cold in fact, that I seriously considered getting out. Seriously. But then my brain froze and I was incapable of thinking anymore so I just bobbed about waiting for the gun. But there was no gun. Just the national anthem. Which apparently WAS the gun because as soon as the singing had finished people were swimming. Right then, I’d better swim too.
The swim was a lot more civilised that I was expecting, I had clear water for most of it, a couple of knocks at the turn buoys but other than that I had to actively find feet to follow. This wasn’t that easy and I never really found a pair I liked so most of it was swum on my own. About ¾ of the way I started to get really cold. Actually shivering. My hands had turned into a weird Vulcan claw which made it hard to catch properly. I let some feet take me in but the end seemed to take forever to come. Each time I looked up we didn’t seem to be any nearer the exit. Finally we were out and a lance at my watch told me it was 31.xx though their times seem to be out by a couple of minutes. I trotted off up the hill to T1. I started to take my wetsuit off my shoulders and got my arms stuck. As I ran along in a kind of neoprene straight jacket I decided it would be better to walk until I had a free limb to break my fall should I have one rather than ending up face planting in the mud with people trampling over me from behind. Andrea ran by me and gave me an encouraging slap with her swim hats (looking at the photos it seems as though she had 3 on. I thought I was excessive with 2!) and I thought now I was free from my arm shackles I ought to go with her. I spent an inordinately long time in T1 but I was so cold my uncontrollable shivering made it difficult to do anything. I could barely think straight and remember some man getting ready next to me seemed to be in the same boat as we were both laughing through chattering teeth. I could see Andrea was ready before me and the next moment she had gone. That’s my cue I thought and tottered out towards my bike trying to shove gloves on wet hands and do up a cycle top at the same time.
The mount line wasn’t too disastrous when I got on but I could tell that any minute now when the second swim wave start ploughing through it would be carnage. It seems that not many people realised where the bike out was and were in the wrong gears weaving shoeless up the hill. I shouted at everyone to keep to the left and zipped up the side of them out of trouble. Once this small rise is out of the way there is a longish downhill and whilst its nice for a bit of speed, I was still absolutely freezing. My mind flicked back to Little Woody last year where Yoann had got so cold from swimming without a wetsuit (what a thing to forget!) that he ended up shivering himself into the kerb. I didn’t want to end up there so I pedalled as hard as I could on the down hill trying to warm myself up. I needn’t have worried, the course soon took care of that for me. About 2/3 miles in I heard and almighty ROAR “GO EVERYDAY TRAINING!!!!” which was of course Lordy. The people around me almost fell into the hedge. He asked how I was doing, I asked how his swim was, knowing he would have hated having to work his way through the first pack to which we agreed ‘busy’ was probably the best way to describe it. And off he went into the distance. I decided to let him go (;-p) and settled into my own rhythm. The sun was making an appearance and I was passing people, things were good. I had ridden this course 2 weeks ago so I knew exactly what was coming and when, and knew which bits to enjoy and push. I came across several girls in the first half of lap one but none of them had the letter C on their legs which would mean my age group rivals. I knew that my AG was a strong field with the likes of Amy, Mel B, Laura Trimble, Alison Rowatt, Carolyn Hewett to name a few so I wasn’t surprised that I wasn’t passing many in my AG. There was the usual cat-and-mouse-ing with people whos strengths and weaknesses were the opposite of mine and we shared a few laughs along the way. At the end of lap 1 I passed a girl pushing her bike up a hill. She was telling spectators that she had gear problems, it was stuck on the big ring which for this course, wasn’t ideal. I was really enjoying the bike course, I knew the hills and how hard to take them and saw Andrea again on the sharp one just after the left turn from the bottom of the course. I told her to push (not literally) and asked her why her legs were turning so slowly. I’m sure she found this as hilarious as I did, inwardly…….. I had, by this point, managed to pass 2 girls in my AG (results show I was 9th out the swim and 8th off the bike but the other one must have nipped by me in T1. Didn’t even need to nip really, she could have sauntered.) and a lot of men. A voice behind me asked me if I was Jo’s sister and we started chatting. Turned out to be Laura Trimble who had recently won IM St George and did something equally as impressive in Florida 2 weeks earlier, and who was also the girl with the broken gears. We talked for a bit and she left me on the flats as the gears she was left with were pretty big so she had no choice but to go fast! I would pass her on the hills as she would be walking and she would find me quickly on the flat. She took it all in great spirits really as it turned out this had happened halfway round the 1st lap and she’d decided not to DNF. Good on her I say. We came into T2 together, both ducked into a loo (not together, I mean we’re friend on FB now but at the time we weren’t that close) and were ready and on the move at the same time. That was the last I saw of her as she set off for her 1.30-something run.
Within minutes of running I knew this was going to be bad. I had been feeling really tired by 10 miles to go on the bike and apparently this wasn’t just bike fatigue. I knew the run was hilly as I’d spectated here last year but what I didn’t realise was that the bit I could see as a spectator was in fact the flattest bit. Slogged it up the first hill feeling like crap. The further I went along this course, the more ridiculous it seemed. After what felt like forever I came across a sign saying Lap 1-3miles. Wow. Is that IT?? I passed the time drinking as much flat coke as I could stomach and trying to stick with the same group of people. I was having serious doubts about my ability to finish the race and then doubts about Roth and Transalpine. I decided on that 1st lap that I wouldn’t pull out of both. Stupid running. Stupid triathlon. Why do I do it to myself. Look, this is just a bad patch, it will pass. Shut up, no it wont. What do you know? You’re going to die out here. No I’m not, I’m going to get to the turnaround and make a call. Ok, as long as that call is that we can stop. Well….possibly. Good, I need a sit down. I know, me too. How about some flat coke instead? Oh, ok then. Yuk. Thanks for that, now I have a stitch.
This and more of the same played out on my head as I battled with this seemingly endless bad patch. I tried to think about the time I pulled out of Little Woody and how much I regretted it and the feeling of annoyance disappointment with myself I had to live with afterwards, and I thought about it being a good session in mental toughness to carry on. Onto lap 2 and I walked the main hill. Power walked ,mind. I ran the rest, apart from the aid stations where I would stop, down a coke, take a swig of water, put my cups in the bin and set off again. At some point I saw Amy, Rob and Lordy all storming home towards what turns out to be 3 AG wins and Andrea who looked far too cheerful. On the way back in from my 2nd lap Naomi and Jo were there shouting me on. I told them that this was a horrible race to which they both had sympathetic responses. Naomi – ‘shut up and run!’ and Jo – ‘its meant to be horrible’. Obviously by this point I had committed to finishing and set off on my final lap. There is an undulation on the way out and I thought now I’d seen Jo I’d have a sneaky walk, only to see that she had crossed over from where she was to this side. Damn! I told her I was about to walk, she told me not to, I was doing well and only 1 lap to go. With this in my ears I set off with renewed vigour. Only 1 lap to go. Yussss! Some lovely comments from people who had clearly been there the whole time as they seemed to know where I was in the race. One guy told me I was still looking just as light as the first lap (not very then!) and that I was less than 4 miles from home. It always lifts me when people make it personal to you. As much as I love the shouts of “go 408!” and “keep going lady!”, these make you feel like someone actually knows what you’re going through.
Over the dam for the last time and onto the off road bit (my favourite bit, thanks to all the trail running over the winter). Suddenly, I start going faster. Its not conscious and there is no increase in effort, its as though my body is doing its own thing independently of my mind. I remember thinking “wow, whats going on?!” but went with it because it felt good. I was ploughing people down now and the hills seemed like nothing. Why couldn’t this have happened on lap 1?! And what was in that last drink I had…EPO?! Onto the final out and back bit and I’m flying. Last push up the little hill and a girl overtakes me. She’s not in my AG but the competitor in me kicks in and I have to sprint by her on the red carpet. I’m home, and happy. My secret plan was sub 6 hours though I honestly didn’t know on this course so I was delighted with 5.53. It was so nice to hear of Amy’s overall win and Robs AG win and that Lordy was (at that point we thought) 2nd. Turns out he was actually 1st so even better!
The race was the delicious filling between two bits of mouldy stale bread as the post race organisation was just as bad as the pre. On finishing I was offered Gatorade OR water, to which I replied “both, please”. I got an odd look but both drinks, though the sweet Gatorade was not something I particularly wanted. But it said recovery drink so downed it anyway. Apparently there was food but it was hidden round the back and no one told me about it. We then had to wait over an hour for them to open transition so we could get our bike and bags out. Thankfully the car park fiasco wasn’t as bad as the previous day and we were off towards a roast cooked by my lovely mum.
Thoughts on this race are disappointing organisation for such a big brand. Happy with my time, and the fact I got a roll-down Vegas slot I found hilarious! And I’m looking forward to the German officiousness that will be Challenge Roth!
