Lotte's blog: July 2012

Short report;

Swim – 1:05.20

T1 – 0:04.40

Bike – 6:15.47

T2 – 0:04.53

Run – 4:18.36

Total – 11:49.13

Long report;

This race was entered on the high of Lanzarote last year and as it looked to be another “club” IM event, it seemed appealing. And very far away still. I had spent the last half of 2011 not doing any real structured training and assumed that the cycle fitness from the previous year would stay with me. Mistake number 1. Safe in in this naïve knowledge, I proceeded to enter up a load of ultra distance runs in preparation for Transalpine, which was 2 months AFTER Roth. My plan was to get to a decent level of endurance running over the winter so that I could start cycling again in the spring, with the run more or less taking care of itself. Mistake number 2. I enjoyed trail running so much more than cycling or swimming and did consider pulling out of Roth as I knew you could get your money back up to a certain date. After week or two deliberating, I decided to race anyway as I’d paid for the accommodation etc and would probably have headed out to support and knew I would have regretted the decision if I were just a spectator.

So, I started putting in some miles on the bike, although not nearly enough. Thankfully a lucky win on the Grand National meant Andy and I could head out to Lanzarote for a week’s training where we managed to clock up some decent miles. This made me feel a little better about my biking ability and tried to use this momentum. I was self-coached this time around (mistake number 3)which made it hard to know if I was doing the right thing or not. Everyone seemed to be doing a lot more than me but Andy and I decided that although my volume was less than before Lanzarote, as least I wasn’t overtraining. Far from it, it turned out. So, with just one 100 mile ride and a smattering of 90milers under my belt, we left for Roth. The boys were talking about riding 1 loop of the course on the Wednesday before the race which I felt was far too much 3 days out. The fact that they were all up for a 56 mile ride so close made me question (again) my bike fitness. This wasn’t much shorter than my “long rides I’d been doing! I plotted out a shorter route and joined them for the most part before Naomi and I headed back to base. 1 x 15 min swim and a 25 min run was the sum total of my training during race week. Everything I did seemed like an effort and I tried to convince myself this was normal in a taper.

The days before the race were very relaxed, we had a great bunch of club members out there and it was all very easy going and relaxed, in between eating steaks and watching the Tour de France. Registration was a dream, as was racking. This race is the biggest in the world I believe and even with 5,000 athletes taking part, everything was seamless. Finally race day came around and after a good nights sleep and some breakfast banter, room number 2 (Andy Steven and I) met up with Nick Mills and we walked the 1 mile to the swim start. Quick pump of the tires and got ready to watch the first wave of pros and sub 9hrs start. This consisted of Jo, Steven, Brett and Rachel Joyce. The gun made me jump out of my skin so goodness knows how they felt in the water! We ladies (all 400 of us) were off 15 mins later and though we were double the size of all other waves, had the same 5 minute window to get through the small gap in the fencing and into the water. My plan, after some discussion with Steven, was to get to the front but slightly to the right so I could get with the faster swimmers but have the option of getting out of trouble if I wanted. Naomi was going to go with me and try to draft me (our joking plan was to write on the soles of my feet so she knew where I was!) but before I was anywhere near the front, the gun had gone and everyone was swimming. I didn’t have time to start my watch even and just tried to get into some space. This was the worst place I could have started, the girls were feisty but slow. I wanted to get around them but they seemed intent on closing up any gap I saw. I ended up going wide to some clearer water and started moving up through the field. I was very frustrated as the faster girls I should have gone with were nowhere to be seen. I was passing people at a rate of knots and didn’t get passed once in the swim. I ended up in clear water with no one ahead of me, a sign that those that I should have gone with were too far ahead to catch. So I was leading out the mid pack with people on my feet. Then we started passing the yellow caps of the male wave 5 mins earlier. I was surprised at how many there were. Swimming through the bridges at either turn point was great, people lining the bridge and you can hear the noise even with you head in the water. Concentrated on long strokes and breathing was relaxed. Before I knew it we were done and a look at my watch told me the time of day was 7.50 which meant a 1.05 swim. I was pleased with that, especially as I would have gone a couple of mins faster had I got to the front at the start. But, in an Ironman 2 minutes is pretty irrelevant I thought, so wasn’t bothered. Mistake number 4. Quick T1 (well, quick for me and at 4.40, 10 mins quicker than Lanzarote. Hopefully the longest transition time lies with someone else now……) and a liberal spraying by 3 eager sun cream volunteers and I was off. Andy’s brother Phil and his wife Charlie had driven over from Switzerland to support and they spotted me heading out of T1. It was good to have people to look forward to seeing along the way as we had no other supporters (apart from the other 180,000 out there that day!). Tried to keep it steady and not go out too fast. Ate a Snickers and tried to not get swept along by the already frankly insane support. I knew I would be passed by Naomi and Roz at some point, and all the boys so I looked forward to seeing them. The German Army were manning an aid station and at either end stood 2 soldiers holding a salute. I thought this was a wonderful touch and saluted back. I’m not sure if this was offensive but they smiled so I guess not! The course is pretty flat and fast for the first half and there are only really 2 significant climbs on each lap. I’m not that strong on flat, especially into the wind that had picked up so wasn’t surprised when Roz and Naomi came by me about half way round. We played cat an mouse for a while and just at the bottom of the proper climb in Greding, Tomas flies by. I got with him as I want to ask why he’s not wearing his leprechaun kit. This put me back ahead of the girls but before long this changed. Andy came by riding strong and I thought he’s done well to catch us in the first lap, I wasn’t expecting to see him until the 2^nd. A few more lumps and then the Solarer Berg was upon us. This really has to be seen to do it justice as words cant really describe the sight and feeling you get there. The climb itself is probably no longer than 300m or so but the crowds start about 500m out from the top. And when I say crowds, I mean hoards of them. I flew up there mouth agape not quite believing it. The first section the crowds are behind barriers but on the actual ascent the are not. There is literally a bike widths space between each side of people and they part in front of you screaming and singing as you go. A truly insane experience.

The second lap was harder, fatigue started to creep in and the stomach was getting more grumpy with each gel I put in it. I passed Andy at the start of lap 2 fixing a puncture at the side of the road. This was a real shame as he’d been riding so well. But he dealt with it and re-passed about half way round. A bit more too-ing and fro-ing with Naomi and Roz before Naomi seemed to disappear into the abyss. I kept Roz in my sights until I stopped to use the only loo I saw on the course and annoyingly it was occupied. Oh well, an extra minute on my bike time wont matter. Mistake number 5. Relieved, I reluctantly got back on my bike and willed the end to come. Of the bike course, not the world I’d like to be clear. The Solarerberg, though still impressively manned was not quite the same experience 2^nd time around and with about 30km to go I started to feel really very rough. The thought of a marathon was ludicrous and I tried to convince myself that I felt exactly the same in Lanza and that once I got running it would feel better. Finally a helpful volunteer took my bike and I hobbled off to find my bag. They are laid out in rows in sections of 10 so its very easy to locate your own bag. Only mine wasn’t there. A volunteer came to help me look but she couldn’t make it appear either. I thought “oh well, I cant do the run, what a shame” and was almost pleased with a forced DNF that wasn’t my fault, when a girl came running up with it. Great. Thanks. I know I had help in the tent with the volunteer emptying my bag out but what happened or was communicated is a blur. I almost ran out with my bike shorts still on but thankfully she spotted it. This race allows iPods so I podded-up and limped off to the exit. Phil and Charlie were there to see me off and I thought seriously about just stopping there and then. I was toast and I hadn’t even started the run. The first 4km or so are up a slight hill and I walked this, sorting out my Garmin and iPod but mostly just putting off actually running. I wasn’t sure how to pace this but Andy was of the belief of holding back in the first 10-13 miles then pushing on in the latter part if you felt good. With no other plan to try, I decided to take this approach and tucked in behind a girl in K-Swiss gear who was running slower than I would have. 9.10 min/miles are ok for the first half, I thought. Mistake number 7 is it? I’ve lost count. Poor K-Swiss, for 10 miles she had me shuffling along the gravelly canal behind her, and she didn’t have music to drown out my panting. Walked each aid station but adopted Lordys approach of walk when you hit the first volunteer and run as you hit the last one and this seemed to go ok. A gel every other aid station which I had picked up at the previous one and kept on me ready to have it open in in my gob by the time I got to the water, and coke and water at the in between ones. Stopped for the loo just as we got off the canal for the first time about 15km and again it was occupied. And again I welcomed the brief respite. And again, this would cost me. You run through towns at either end of the canal and at this first turnaround I saw Naomi and Roz about 5-6 mins ahead. I thought I might be able to catch them and suddenly there was Roz just up ahead, pink eppi pouch bouncing as she went. Only as I got closer, it wasn’t Roz. It was someone who was wearing the same kind of pouch as Roz. I strained my eyes as far down the canal as I could see to try and spot either of them but couldn’t. I think this is when I gave up really. Each step now became a huge effort and I had a very dark patch where I put music on and just focussed on a mans legs in front, not noticing anything else. The mistakes I’ve been mentioning throughout are not so much mistakes but what I believe contributed to the second half of my marathon. All these minutes here and there would have put me within striking distance of Naomi and Roz and I like to think that this would have kept me pushing. But as I never made contact, it got to a point where I knew I never would so I decided to stop trying. As I approached the section of canal that we ran down at the start, and would run down at the end, I very seriously contemplated stopping then. As I ran by it I was aware that every step I was taking would be an extra step I’d have to take if I decided to turn back. It got so serious that I actually stopped dead to make my decision. I tried to think of how I would feel if I did give up there, and that I would be the only one who DNF’d at the dinner table that night, and how it felt when I pulled out half way round the run in Little Woody last year. I really wasn’t sure what to do with myself but I started running again hoping to see Andy who would tell me what to do. That’s how bad it was at that point, that I actually thought Andy would stop his race to comfort me in mine. As it turned out when I did see him it was nothing more than a brief but encouraging clap and the news that I was only 10 mins from the turnaround point. All I could do was shake my head. He asked me a couple of weeks before the race what I’d do if I felt bad during the run and I’d told him I would think of how I felt during the last 10 miles of Country to Capital 45 mile run back in January and how I didn’t think I could go on in that but I did. I’d always maintained that the C2C was the hardest thing I’d ever done, harder than an Ironman and I would keep that in mind when the going got tough. If I wasn’t in tears like I was during C2C then it wasn’t that bad. I checked, and I wasn’t crying so, ergo, it wasn’t as bad. So I pulled myself together to totter a few more painful steps closer to this mythical turnaround I was sure would never come. What did come though, was a ball of positive bounding energy in the shape of Ana who was flying. She looked like she was having a ball and I envied her that. She encouraged me and offered me a gel and told me to “come with me!” I regret that all I could do was shake my head, rather than tell her how amazingly she was going in her first IM. I didn’t want to feel jealous of the other girls having good races but I did. I didn’t want to feel disappointed that I didn’t beat them but I did. I didn’t want to feel incredibly sorry for myself but I did. All it would take now was for Kevin who started AN HOUR behind me to come bounding by and that would just top my day off. I still had 11km to go and I tried to work out how long it would take to walk 7 miles. At least 2 hours. I felt totally deflated. I couldn’t run, I didn’t want to walk. All I could do was carry on eating gels in a desperate bid to find some magical energy from somewhere. The problem, though actually not a problem at all, with this course is that there is no respite from the crowds in the second half. When you walk, you are chanted at to run. Everyone is willing you on and you don’t want to let them down. I passed a couple more miles in my pathetic walk/hobble state, trying not to think of all those that would have finished by now. Then at mile 20 a section of good songs came on my iPod and I started feeling better. I set myself targets; run for the next 3 songs then you can have a break. Run until at least 22 miles or that bridge in the distance, whichever is later. Pass at least 20 people. It helped, and in that lucid period I felt good again. Then it was over. 7km out and back to feeling dead. I took on more gels and coke hoping my good patch would return but, alas, it did not. This last section was truly horrible. The last 5km seemed to go on for ever but as with everything, the end came eventually. Beer mile around the square in Roth was fun, there is a commentator calling out your name and I somehow managed to convince myself that it was the finish I was hearing. It wasn’t, but I didn’t know that at the time so rode the wave of hope. 40km, just 2 more to go. Last km and I suddenly recognise where I am. Over the tram lines and enthusiastic volunteers telling me I’m “super! Super! Super! Klasse!!” and finally, after 11 hours and 49 minutes I was at the finish chute. It’s a 3 sided square so everyone can get a good look at you in all your horrific-ness. I reminded myself to try and absorb it, though the feeling of euphoria I had a Lanzarote was not there this time. A few half-hearted high fives with some kids, a glimpse of Phil and Charlie and I’m over the line. I am bitterly disappointed and cant face other people who have had great races. I slink off to a quiet shady bench and lay down with my music hoping no one will ever find me. Andy does and gets me some water then goes for a shower then Jo sniffs me out. We share war stories, I try not to cry on her and she tells me that her races wasn’t what she’d hoped for either and seeing how pragmatic she was about it made me check myself. Hey. I’d finished, I’d been beaten by better prepared people who deserved their finish times and I could only learn from this. The number 1 lesson being if you don’t train hard enough, it will hurt. You get out what you put in to this sport.

I vowed on the run, after the finish, all that evening and the following day that I would never put myself through that again. I was done with long distance triathlon. I had retired.

Of course this is not the case. On reflection I am seeing the positives I can take from this race and use them to put in a better performance at a later date. I don’t know when this will be but I am certain that there will be a next time. There you go, 4 days later and my fickle mind has changed. ;-)

I was far too blasé about my training for this race and though I could get around on what endurance I already had. I did get round but my expectations were too high. I have learned not to take Ironman for granted, there is a lot of work you have to put into it. I was pleased with my swim considering I went twice a week on average, if that. I know I need guidance and that self-coaching is not for me. Not yet anyway. I know I have to race for myself, not for other people. And I know that I will try again.

The week was a brilliant one, and looking back I have very fond memories. A great crew to be with, Andy, Steven, Jo, Roz, Ana, Naomi, Tomas, Kris, Kev, Nick and briefly Brett. As a race I would highly recommend it. I would also recommend the Hotel and Restaurant Latino in Hilpoltstein - they were very accommodating and eager to please, despite a dodgy start! Well done to everyone there – it really was a tough day in the office. (;-p)

Lotte's blog

Tuesday 17 July 2012

Leaving Roth Behind....

Thursday 12 July 2012

Roth Race Report 8th July 2012