The wait is over

In my last post I was awaitng the results of my MRI scan on my foot, and the start line of Transapline was hanging in the balance.  So I thought an update was due.  (I know how you all worry about me dear readers). 
So MRI results showed tenosynovitis which for those that dont know is basically fluid between the tendon (peroneus longus) and the tendon sheath.  The consultant at London Bridge hospital didn't seem to think that training on it would cause any long term damage, or make it any worse, but referred me to a physio for the final go ahead to start training/rehab-ing.  So I went to see my physio Jay at Puresports Medicine who had already worked wonders on it.  He stuffed me full of pins, vacuum suctioned the crap out of the tendon, wrapped my foot up nicely and told me to go run.  I didnt need telling twice so I shot out of there and within a matter of hours, Andy and I were trotting happily around the Ashridge estate in the sunshine.  15 miles later, no sign of foot or back pain so we went out the next day too.  11 miles and still feeling fine.  I was good to go!  A few runs later and a session with my trainer Will (I made the mistake of telling him to work me to the verge of tears in a bid to make me as strong as possible in the little time we had left) and my legs were in agony.  DOMS had set in big time and I found walking and getting up and down off the loo pretty challenging.  An epsom salt bath or 2 later and a daily stretching routine has made me feel a lot better and this mornings run was pretty good. 

So, I now have exactly 2 weeks until the off and whilst I am over the moon about being able to compete and share the building excitement among our little group, I am fully aware that I am less than ideally prepared for the event.  Andy, as ever, is full of optimism about my ability to make it to the finish and still enjoy myself, though I have nagging doubts about going into a 200 mile race over the Alps with 3 weeks training.  But, I am thankful to be able to stand on the start line, so will just take each day as it comes.  I mean.....how bad can it be...???

I am also hoping that my consistent POWERbreathe training will stand me in good stead for the race, which is something that I've been keeping up since before Roth.  I'm nervous about the altitude and how I'm going to deal with it, having never been up that high before (well, in a ski lift but I wasnt exactly up there for long).  But, the benefits of the POWERbreathe  should out-weigh the risk.  Some science for you;
At altitudes of 2,000m, there is less oxygen.  20% less apparently.  So the body breathes harder to get its usual amount of o2, thus putting more workload on your respiratory muscles which fatigue more quickly.  These muscles also provide stability to the trunk of the body so when these arent working as effectively as usual, you are less stable and use other muscles to compensate. Working muscles that are not desgined for that job over 200miles on tough terrain, you are staring an injury in the face.   
So as opposed to sea level when our ability to exercise is limited by our heart's ability to pump blood round the body, at altitude, the limitation becomes ones ability to pump air in and out of the lungs. The stronger and fitter the breathing muscles....the better. And lets face it, I'm gonna need a lot of air to be able to moan at Andy for 8 days........
So this weekend I will be heading out again into the August sunshine to clock up a few more miles with Andy, Sergio and Jaime (our Spanish contingent) and carry that on with a large block of running next week and into the bank holiday weekend.  I'm aiming for 70-80 miles over the next 7 days and now that my body has woken up from its little (or rather large) break and has remembered how to run, I just hope she behaves! 

So whilst my next post may be full of moans and whines about how tired I am and how much my legs ache, I will always keep in mind how lucky I am to be able to run at all. That ought to keep me motivated for the next 2 weeks!

The waiting game.

And I'm still doing nothing.  The injuries of 2 weeks ago are not shifting and although my back is 90% better I'm still not allowed to run or do gym works.  2 key ingredients for the Transalpine training I'd say.  More problematic however, is my foot.  It got a bit better, then a bit worse and is stayed like that for what feels like ages.  I finally had enough of giving it a few more days to settle down as the have turned into weeks, so I'm off to see a specialist today to hopefully get a diagnosis.  It may seem obvious that I have a sore foot but the control freak in me needs to know what kind of sore it is.  Is anything torn?  Could anything tear?  Is it in my imagination?  When can I run again?  I cant do anything without this information and I feel pretty helpless and more than a little frustrated.  4 and a half weeks to go and I've done zilch-o for 3 and a half.  I need to know, hear it from a specialist, when, and indeed if, I can start training again, and the million dollar question, can I run 350km in 4 weeks time?  I'd like to think that if I get the green light now I can just about do it.  But I think I know deep down that running on any kind of pain is not a clever idea and that is most likely what I'll hear today.  So, lets wait and see.....

Leaving Roth Behind....

Roth seems like a distant memory now with nothing but a medal and a sore foot to show for it.  Since the race I have had time to reflect on what i felt had gone wrong and the steps needed to correct them.  I know I have a better performance in me and whilst I am excited to give IronDistance racing another shot, for now my focus is purely Transalpine.  For those that don't know what this race is, its an 8 day multi stage race through (by which I mean over) the Alps.  Distance along is about 300km, distance up is about 15,000m.  I know, sounds crazy right?  Well it does to me at the moment, especially as we are now 6 weeks out and I cannot run.  The sore foot is more problematic than I first thought with me only just being able to walk pain free.  I have a massage today and am icing and Voltorol-ing it regularly so fingers crossed I can resume running by the weekend.  I mean I really need to be fully functioning soon as I have a LOT of training coming up.  In a couple of weeks my training volume will hit 250km of running in a single week.  I'm still not sure how to fit all that in around a full time job but I'm sure I'll find a way.  Or rather, Andy will find one.  I am excited and scared in appropriate amounts and have re-started my POWERbreathe regime in a bid to get my respiratory system at least a little bit ready for the altitude, and have also been advised to do my gym work with the POWERbreathe.  Yup, hanging out my gob and wheezing like Darth Vader.  In public.  Cant wait.  Thankfully I don't know anyone at my gym so there will be no photographic evidence of this ordeal. 
So, recovery almost over its time to start getting my head back into hard graft mode.  And truth be told.....I'm looking forward to training hard again.  As nice as a break is after a race, I dont like doing nothing for long........

Roth Race Report 8th 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)

Ironman UK 70.3

Swim – 0:33.12 (9^th in AG)

T1  0:08.17

Bike – 3:20.49 (8^th AG)

T2 – 0:03.06

Run – 1:48.70 (7^th AG)

TOTAL – 5:53.45 (7^th 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 9^th out the swim and 8^th 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 1^st 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 1^st 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 2^nd 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) 2^nd.  Turns out he was actually 1^st 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!

Herculean Adventure - Post race

I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed racing Olympic triathlons.  Yesterday’s race was a pleasant trip down memory lane as I re-discovered why I spent 2 years at this distance. 

The stats are;

Swim – 23.31

T1 – 2.16

Bike – 1:18.42

T2 -0.41

Run – 43.02

Overall – 2:28.14 / 2^nd lady

As this race was pretty local to Andys house we decided to give ourselves more time in bed on Sunday morning by registering the day before.  This was all very quick and hassle free and we headed back munching on the bag of cookies and wagon wheels in our race bags. 

My “race face” slowly started creeping back during the day as I prepared my bike with her new wheels and go faster tyres.  Early night and an early rise to get to the race in time to rack and get to the waters edge for the briefing.  It took me a while to remember what I needed in transition, the last couple of triathlons I have done involved race bags and someone unpacking and re-packing them whilst you tell them what you need.  Though for this race I certainly left more in transition than I normally would because of the weather.  After getting out of 13 degree water at 07.15 in the morning I decided that cycling jacket, socks and gloves were a must.  So a quick clamber into my wetsuit in the loos (which, with a small field and even fewer ladies were totally empty) and off to the lake.  A 2 lap course around very obvious blue barrels and exiting just to the left of the entrance.  As I wasn’t planning on leading the swim, I was fairly relaxed about being able to find my way around without too much bother. 

We got in a few mins before the start to get used to the water and though it was cold, it wasn’t as bad as I’d been expecting.  Though the rest of the field seemed reluctant to get in and despite the pleas from those of us in the water to “hurry up and get in so we can start!”, it took the race director to say “1 minute to go” to get the remaining wimps into the lake.  I found myself at the front and as it wasn’t a particularly big start, wasn’t that concerned.  Off we went and people seemed to find their space in quite a civilized manner.  There was no argy-bargy and any knocks I got were a result of me swimming into people.  The lake water was very murky and you couldn’t see you own arm let alone any feet to draft.  I slowly started passing people again and settled into my pace.  I did use a few people to leap frog my way ahead and came in off the first lap leading a mini group of swimmers.  Onto the second lap and I was swimming alongside someone that I was fed up of seeing every time I turned to breathe so I put on a surge to catch a lone swimmer up ahead.  I dropped my old swimming companion and found the feet of a new one.  He was going at the right pace for me to draft so I tried to stay on his toes.  As you couldn’t see anything, not even bubbles to alert you to movement, I had to do it all by feel.  Once the water felt still I’d look up to see I was too far left or right of him and right myself.  As we were coming to the exit I could see that he was going to miss it so luckily I’d spotted it in time to beat him out of the water ;-p

The race director was there helping people out of the lake and cheering them on and even undoing every ones wetsuits as they teetered up the ramp, which I thought was a great touch.  Saves me fumbling around with numb hands! 

Into T1 and started to get dressed.  This took an age to get everything on whilst wet and numb but it seems that everyone was in the same boat and even Andy who had lead the swim out took longer than I did!  Naomi came in about 20 seconds after me which I was surprised about and as I thought she’d out-ride me, got a spurt on and left.  About 15 yards after the mount line it I noticed that my front break was rubbing so I had to get off and adjust that.  Just as I was getting back up to speed Naomi came flying by me.  Time to get going then Carritt and I went with her (obeying the 7x3metre drafting rules of course!).  It became apparent throughout the race where each other’s strengths were and though I’d make passes on inclines, on the flat she would take them back again.  I was ahead of her going into the first of the 2 loops of the lollipop course and concentrated on pushing.  About half way round the first loop I noticed my aero bars were loose.  I checked them and they had indeed managed to wiggle their way out of the brackets holding them onto the underside of the handles bars and I tried to wriggle them back in.  Doing this whilst trying to race was unsurprisingly unsuccessful and I decided to just not touch them anymore and use the drops instead.  Apparently the aero bars had different ideas and on a particularly rough surfaced section of road (there were a few on this course) they launched themselves off in protest at being ignored and lay on the road in a sulk.  The thought of leaving them there flicked through my mind a nano second before I slammed on my brakes (no one was around me at that point) and turned round to retrieve them.  I swore loudly and shoved them in the pocket of my jacket (good job I’d battled with it in T1 or I’d have no pockets) just as I saw a group of cyclists coming round the bend.  I sped off and threw the aero bars (which at this point, being too big for my pocket were about to make a second break for freedom) to a marshal on the next corner.  He very kindly agreed to take them back for me.  So, about as aero as a garage door I set about the second lap.  Much the same, though I did tell a guy off who was literally on another guys wheel.  I’m talking Regents Park style here.  Cat and mouse-ed with Naomi a bit more until the long flat stretch home where she put her foot down and went by me again.   I said I’d get her on the run and though I meant it in a jokey, banter-ous kind of way I wondered if it sounded b1tchy so I sped up to try and apologies but though I got closer, she was motoring and started inching further away again.  I used this flat bit of road to take my gel about 8km to go and came into T2 about 10 seconds behind Naomi.  Somehow I managed to leave before her, I’m not sure what she was doing, maybe looking for my lipstick…..or having a chat with Andy……I dunno ;-p

Onto the run and my feet were like blocks of ice.  I couldn’t feel a thing and could have been running on stumps for all I knew.  4 and a half laps of slightly undulating grass and a bit of a gravel track.  Fairly pleasant I thought.  I didn’t know where I was in terms of position and hoped that my run legs wouldn’t desert me.  I also hoped that I could back up the bold statement I shouted at Naomi about getting her on the run and did have a moment of worry where I wondered if she was about to pass me any minute.  There is one section of the course where you can see people about 100-150m behind you and the first time I got to this I could see the Tri London blue of her vest.  This spurred me on but the second time around I couldn’t see her at the same spot.  I lady spectating told me I was second lady and when I asked how far ahead first was she replied “4 minutes”.  Oh.  Do-able if she is a rubbish runner but I decided to only push if the gap came down significantly over the next lap or if she came into view.  Neither of these things happened so I just concentrated on making sure no one challenged me from behind.  It was nice to be passing people and I do love the feeling of passing men in full fancy tri kit who had swooshed by me on their TT bikes with pointy helmets earlier on.  Good support as you pass through the transition area as people are still coming in off the bike.  You get a band at this point and when you have 4 you do half a lap and the come into the finish.  As always I like to see who has how many bands and managed to pass away another lap and half with this game.  Finally I got my last band and took the turn for home.  I had not seen another girl either in front or behind but I still put in a sprint finish just in case I’d missed one!  Nice to be home 2^nd lady but as there only about 7 of us its not really a victory worth crowing about.  I was more pleased that after such a long time away from this distance and in particular any form of speed work on the run and very little on the bike that I managed to get under 2.30.  I hadn’t embarrassed myself and the girl I lost to is current world champion in oly distance in my AG.  Funnily enough, when I was doing oly distance in 2009/2010 I beat her significantly in Windsor (my first ever tri) and Bedford the following year.  So she has worked hard to become pretty darn good! 

I thought this was a great race.  Easy to register, decent goody bags, indoor toilets, showers, café, parking close by (free on race day), great marshals who were always ready with words of encouragement, a well marked out course in all disciplines and thoughtful touches like sweeping the gravel off the bike in/out exit and undoing your wetsuit.  A small field as it’s their first one but I hope this one grows into something bigger.  My only slight complaint would be the road surface in some parts but this isnt their fault and the roads were very quiet and the distance was spot on.  I recommend it to anyone looking for a near-ish early season race. 

Oh, and the marshal even came to find me at the end to reunite me with my wayward aero bars!

Herculean Adventure (Pre-race)

So, here we are, 2 days before my first Olympic distance triathlon in about 20 months and truth be told, I'm not looking forward to it.  Nearly 2 years of long, slow training has all but annihilated any speed I'd built up over the my 8 years in sport.  Not that I was ever uber quick on the bike or at swimming but I could hold my own, and was always pretty proud that I could usually bust out a sub 40m run on most oly courses.  This was my weapon that usually got me into the top 5 or so of my age group and where I slowly picked off all the girls that had passed me on the bike and recovered a small amount of respect and dignity that I'd left in T1.  This time around, however, I have a feeling that things will be very, very different.  And I cant even get my mind into "race mode" like before, and I have been known, prior to events, to google the names of the girls in my age group to see their past results and whether I thought I'd beat them or not.  Not today.  I dont event want to know who is in my agegroup.  I do know my clubmate and friend Naomi is racing, and she is pretty handy on the bike these days.  I am secretly breathing a little easier that her new, custom built TT bike isnt ready for this weekend and that head to head on our matching Planet X's I MIGHT just stand a chance of staying near enough to her on the bike to chase her down on the run.  The other person I know racing is of course Andy.  Who will beat me by a considerable margin.  But then again, he does have a new pointy helmet.  His running is considerably improved and the days where I would hand him his arse on a plate over 10 - 21k are now a thing of the past. 
Another factor that is putting a dampener on my race vibe is the weather.  A paltry 14 degrees is the best we can hope for on Sunday, but probably not at 7am.  Then it'll be more like 8 degrees.  So now there are decisions to be made about what the heck to wear!  I'm personally going for 2 hats in the swim, gloves, socks and jacket on the bike and wait and see for the run.  And the thought of getting into 12.5 degree water is not one I am spending too much time over. 

I know this all sounds very negative and whilst I dont want it to - I am actually wondering why I signed up for this distance race.  Andy and I went to recce the course last weekend and decided to do one of the 2 loops of the "lollipop" at a higher intensity that we had been riding and I think I lasted half a lap before giving up and returning to my snail like pace. 
Now, I could put this down to post Lanzarote fatigue, but I think its more likely to be pure cant be bothered -ness. 

However, once this is done we have a Tri London social in the afternoon where we get to eat chilli and banoffee pie and catch up with friends so really, the 2 and a half hours (yeah right - I'd be chuffed to buggery if I went 2.30!) racing is just a warm up for the rest of the day. 

I will let you know how I get on, unless I do worse than even I'm imagining is possible right now, then I shall simply delete this post and pretend it never happened........