"So are you ready?"

So are you ready?  This is the question I'm being frequently asked, now that I've finished all my 'big' training.  I answer this question by saying "I guess...I hope!".

The Peak period of my training has been done and I'm now in Taper.  The race in Copenhagen is just over 2 weeks away and it's starting to feel very real.

During Peak, I managed to do two 100 mile bike rides, one in strong winds and rain (which, as we all know, I'm used to by now but still get mightily cross by!).  I also did a 73 mile ride along the up and down roads of North Pembrokeshire, followed by an hour's brick run.  Two long runs - one 2.5 and one 3 hour and a handful of threshold runs here and there.  One 3.2k lake swim, one 3k swim (6x500m) in Cardiff's 50m pool and my usual BadTri club sessions during the week.  I'm quite happy with all that.

A few days into taper and I can certainly feel by body crying out for some downtime!  I went for a sports massage the other day and some of my muscles felt quite different....and not good different.  I usually like having my calf muscles massaged but this time it felt torturous.  Being hit from behind whilst sat in a car at red lights a few weekends back hasn't helped ease the knots in my back either!  Fair play though, my body's done well to withstand the miles and hours of training.

So, for the next couple of weeks, I need to keep ticking over, doing short, sharp sessions and enjoy having more time to do 'normal' stuff at the weekends. 

I'll check back to blogworld in the week leading up to the Big Race!

Train. Eat. Sleep.

Train. Eat. Sleep.  This is all I did over the weekend and I loved every minute of it.

On Friday night, I made sure I wouldn't need to leave the house for anything else over the weekend by buying more than a weekend's worth of food.  I made a big pot of vegetable pasta for Friday's dinner, making sure I'd have leftovers for quick lunches on Saturday and Sunday.

The alarm went off at 5.30am (again!) Saturday morning.  Today I was to do 'The Big Swim', a 2 mile swim event in the Cotswolds.  I ate my big bowl of museli and half a bagel (what I'm planning to eat on race morning) and set off in the torrential rain, picking up Andrea on the way.  The last 3 times I've driven to the lake in the Cotswolds, I've gotten lost and I got lost again.  After mild panic and failed attempts at finding where we were on our fancy but useless 'smart' phones, we found the lake and arrived with ample time.

There was a lovely pre-race atmosphere, the rain had stopped and sun was starting to peep through.  I carefully got into my wetsuit and lubed up.  I was slightly apprehensive, mainly because I get quite bored swimming in open water, especially when there's little or no visibility.  This lake, however, is beautifully clear and there's plenty of underwater entertainment.

The scary fairground siren sounded, and we were off on the 2 loop course.  It wasn't the simplest of routes and kind of zig-zagged all over the lake.  There was the usual scrap at the start but I soon got plenty of open water to swim in and set about maintaining a good, strong steady pace whilst occupying my mind by checking out what was going on with the lake's wildlife.  I saw interesting cotton-wool type plants, tiddlers, a tesco bag and a giant black fish, which shocked me somewhat.

I'm not sure if my sighting was succesful or not.  I took what I thought was the most direct route to each buoy but everyone else seemed to be swimming WAY over to my right.....was I going off course?  Are they rounding the buoys too wide?  Anyway, I found myself  approaching the buoys quite tight and having to turn around them quite abruptly.

I felt good and was enjoying it.  The first lap passed quickly and about 2 thirds into the second I began to wonder what time I was on for.  I imagined something like 1h15.  A little sprint to the finish and I'd finished.  I went to stop my watch and was surprised to find I'd managed it in 1h02.  I was pleased.

A quick change and we were heading back to Bristol.  I ate my flaskfull of porridge so that I was loaded up again for the run Andrea and I would do when we got back.  Home, quick change into run kit, and I was out the door again on a 2.5 hour run.

I ran to Andrea's and we headed towards the harbourside and back towards Temple Quay.  From there we ran through an area I'd never seen before - St Philip's - the site of Bristol's dump.  Nice.

We soon found ourselves on the Bristol to Bath cycle path and maintained our nice marathon pace.  I wanted to test out my race outfit so I'd worn my new tri shorts, tri top and a t-shirt over (I didn't want to feel a tit running around Bristol just in my tri gear).  It was humid and the sun soon came out.  I was desperate to do some training in warm(er) weather so was pleased with the conditions.

Towards the end of the run, my left knee started to complain again and my hamstrings started to tighten but nothing I couldn't manage.  2.5 hours elapsed just as we got back to Andrea's house so it was a perfectly thought out route!  I think I covered around 13.5 to 14 miles and I was very pleased with myself for having done a great morning's training.

I braved an ice bath when I got home and after some Pasta and a For Goodness Shake I promptly fell asleep on the sofa.  Lots of potatoes for dinner then it was time for bed again in preparation for Sunday's 100 ride.

For the third day in a row, the alarm went off at 5.30.  I was quite excited about today though as I knew there was a big group of us heading out and that it would most likely be a fun day out.  Another massive bowl of museli and a bagel and I headed towards Andrea's to meet her and Pete before heading down to the start of the Bristol to Bath cycle path.  There were 9 of us riding!

It was a great ride and I felt good throughout.  Our route took in the Cotswolds, Wooton Basset, Avebury, Calne and Chippenham and was more or less nicely rolling.  We hit a few nasty hills (mainly when we got lost!), Andrea had a nasty fall when her bike acquainted with the curb and I punctured, which made me cross.  It gave me another chance to practise with my new CO2 pump though.

In the last 10 miles my tummy really started to rumble and I was hungry! I always think I'm eating too much when I'm out on a ride but evidently not.  Most people seem to bring snacks like sandwiches and non sports-nutrition cakes so I'm going to need to consider something new (and exciting) to eat.  I think I'm gonna go with Kate's snack of choice - pitta bread spread with peanut butter, cut up into small bits.

When I got home I put on my run shoes and headed out for a quick 10 minute brick run.  My legs felt ok.  Finally, my big weekend of training had been done and all I needed to do now was eat and sleep.....and that I did!

I can't wait until this weekend.  It'll be more of the same but this time in Cardiff with Dan.  Yay.

The End of Build and BADTri Long Training Day

It's finally rest week after a pretty hectic final 3 week build phase which included the Pyrenees camp, a random sprint tri, lots of sore muscles but hopefully some quality training.

The period culminated with my tri club's Long Training Day on Saturday.  This wasn't a race but an opportunity to cover half-iron distance.  We based ourselves at Henleaze lake and a few kind club volunteers looked after our kit and provided water, tea and coffee if required.

It was so nice to get up at a reasonable hour (7am), eat breakfast in bed and do some pottering before heading to the lake for a 9.30 start.  It was a grey but warm day and I had made note that it was, yet again, windy.  I didn't really bother setting up transition as normal, I just kinda dumped my rucksack next to my bike (which later turned out to be a mistake).




All smiles before the off.

A group photo then it was time to get into the lake.  Henleaze lake is always pretty cold so there was lots of yelping and whining as we all lowered ouselves in.  It's also very murky and you can barely see your hand in front of you so doing 10 laps didn't fill me with much excitement (I like to have things to look at when I'm swimming). 


There I am faffing towards the back!

I was still chatting and faffing with my watch when all of a sudden we were off.  Considering it wasn't a race it was quite the bun fight and it was fun having mini scraps with my club mates.  Soon enough there was plenty of clear water and I attempted to get into rhythm.  I thought I was going quite well but was slightly annoyed that people who I'm usually faster than in the pool were faster than me in their wetsuits.....so I'm obviously a great kicker but have rubbish upper body strength *sulk*.

42-ish minutes later and after a big push for the final lap, I was out of the water, along with Andrea.  I'd already decided beforehand that I wasn't going to do any kind of rushing in transistion.  I leisurely took my wetsuit off, dried myself off a bit and chatted whilst looking for kit in my rucksack.  After mild panic about not being able to find my sunglasses in my rucksack,  I was about to leave with Andrea when I realised I'd forgotten my gloves.  This is where I decided I really should have set eveything out like PROPER transition!

Gloves found it was finally time to get out on the bike.  Andrea had long gone by now so it was up to me to negotiate my way to the A38.  I immediately took a wrong turn at a roundabout and took a very indirect route.  I eventually found myself on the A38, a long, busy stretch of road heading up towards Gloucester.  Whilst not the most inspiring of routes it was the easiest for the day's organisers to put on for all of us from the lake.

The first 28 miles were a breeze, literally.  I was cruising along at an average of around 20mph, enjoying being down on my tribars.  Deep down, I knew I was being swept along by a mighty south-westerley wind.  As I approached the turn around point I started seeing my fellow BADTri-ers coming back the other way and most of them wore pained expressions.  Uh-oh. 

I rounded the roundabout and almost got blown sideways.  Back onto the A38 and I was now heading straight into THAT wind.  I think I immediately swore out loud.  So I had 28 miles of grinding it out at no more than 15mph, the wind whistling in my ears, out of control snot and a lot of swearing.  It was miserable!

I overtook one or two strugglers and I spotted a pair up ahead so made it my mission to hunt them down.  Thanks to some red traffic lights I eventually caught them.  Much to my surprise it was our head coach Andy and Tim, who I know is a pretty strong cyclist.  Hmm, I thought, Andy must be pacing him.  So I tucked in behind them (both strapping 6ft plus guys) and we cycled back to the lake, more or less in silence (well you couldn't have had a conversation in the wind anyway!).

Finally, I was back at the lake.  I'd forgotten to check my bike splits but someone mentioned that it had taken them 1h15 out and 1h50 back!  I lay down my bike (no fancy transistion railings), put on my trainers, a brief toilet stop and trotted up towards the Downs.  I think I must've again deviated from the 'official' route but I eventually found myself on the Downs.  We were to run 3 laps then head back to the lake.  Alex and Lucy kindly stood at a corner with a big water vat and lots of encouragement.

The run was tough and I felt pretty tired from the bike leg but I managed to keep a steady pace.  I walked through the 'feed stations' (just as I would in a race) and popped a few Shot Bloks.  I felt a bit of a plonker in my tri top and shorts too - it was pretty extreme running attire for what was essentially a run on the Downs (but completely normal in a race, of course).  This was such good training though, physically and mentally.  The thought of "how the hell am I gonna do DOUBLE this?!" did enter my mind.

Again, I'm not sure I took the official route back to the lake, more like the most direct way.  Finally, I'd finished and arrived back to a small ripple of applause from those left at the lake.  I was quite pleased with my run time (around 2h13) but was still reeling from the bike leg.  It had been a surprisingly hard day!



There's me in the blue cap.

 This week is rest week so I'm taking the opportunity to be sensible, tone down the training, get a massage and prepare myself for Peak. 

N.B. Despite being sun-less for most of the day, I managed to acquire very attractive tri kit tan/burn lines.  THANKS AGAIN WIND!
N.N.B.  It turns out Tim had crashed so Andy was carefully leading him home, hence the nice pace!

Mumbles Sprint Triathlon

It may seem a little odd to do a sprint tri in the middle of my ironman training but there was only one reason I did this one - so that Copenhagen wouldn't be my 13th ever triathlon. I couldn't find any other suitable Tris to do but this one was fairly close to Cardiff and I could incorporate going home to West Wales for the evening.

Another early morning start (4am - poor Dan) and despite it being pretty light outside, large ominous clouds loomed.  The recent weather has been damn awful and it was looking like today would again be another battle with the elements. A good hearty breakfast of porridge, half a bagel and coffee and we were ready to go. 

The journey there was blighted by heavy showers and I wasn't particularly looking forward to getting out of the car.  Despite a few more showers, transistion set up was nice and leisurely and I soon got into my wetsuit. 

After what seemed like the longest pre-race briefing ever (seriously, the guy practically went through the whole course) it was finally time to get into the not-very-inviting looking sea.  I'm not a fan of salty water but I figured this was more useful practise for the lagoon at Copenhagen.  My intention was to position myself towards the back of the deep water start and hope for fairly clear water but it would soom become evident that this was not going to happen.  The hooter went and the washing machine started.  It seemed to take ages to get into any sort of rhythm.  I battled through breast-strokers, got kicked in the ribs, whacked on the head, got blocked off between two guys who swam into eachother and swam straight into a guy who'd stopped dead at the buoy turn.  It was fairly frustrating but I do find the whole fracas quite fun and refuse to stress about it.

The run to T1 can only be described as torturous.  Running with cold bare feet on rough concrete really is one of the most unpleasant experiences.  I swore and grimaced alot, as did others around me (Dear Race Director - please consider some matting!).  I couldn't be bothered to rush T1 so I sort of dried my feet, on went the socks, shoes and rain jacket and I trotted out to the bike course.  As soon as I'd clipped in it started to rain again but it was a short lived shower.  We soon hit a hill, albeit a baby of a hill compared to what I was riding up last week.  It was enough to get the heart pumping and despite getting overtaken by a lot of guys I did pick off a fair few ladies (and some gents).  I felt strong.

Me on the bike, being a wuss, with my rain jacket on.

The route continued on undulating roads and there was a nasty surprise of a hill where a lot of people were pushing but I managed to grind and zig-zag my way up.  A quick blast along a moor then it was back down to the Mumbles sea front.  On the final stretch, a guy in surf shorts on a heavy looking hybrid bike overtook me.  Well, I wasn't having this at all so I turned on the afterburners and promptly overtook him back.  He then got annoying and came up behind me declaring 'oooh the race is on'.  He passed me again and I rolled my eyes.  The end was in sight and I didn't want to get beaten by a guy in surf shorts so I put the hammer down and got to the dismount line first, much to his disappointment. Ha, small wins...

Another rather leisurely transistion and it was time to run.  I remember the days when running off the bike felt like I'd suddenly contracted a bout of elephantitis in my legs.  These days, I make a point of running, sometimes for only 10 minutes, off almost all my rides and it has paid dividends.  I'm a bit slower at running high tempo this year but I felt comfortable for most of this 5k.  I ran most of the run a little bit behind a guy wearing a Tenby Tri suit.  I (very, very) gradually caught up with him in the last kilometre and we both upped the tempo to the finish.  I was just relieved I hadn't gotten a stitch, which had happened in the last few high tempo runs I'd done.

I think I have my raceface on, under that sportsnaps caption...

 And so my 13th Triathlon was done in 2 hours, 6 minutes and 2 seconds without any dramas, punctures or falls.  Phew.  Now onto number 14...

ES Coaching Triathlon Training Camp at Pyrenees Multisport

I'm still buzzing from last week's training camp.

We arrived at 'base camp' in Luscan on the Saturday afternoon and set to work rebuilding the bikes (which I'd spent ages lovingly packing the night before!).  We were staying at a lovely old French farmhouse which was decked out in Triathlon and Cycling paraphenalia. Brilliant.


Sunday - The week kicked off with a 7am open-water swim at the lovely clear water of Aventignan Lake. It felt so good to be swimming in a lake where you could see the bottom and get a sense of how fast you were swimming.  Back to the house for a hearty breakfast (the first of many very hearty breakfasts) then it was time to kit out for the long ride ahead.  Today turned out to be the biggest day mileage and hill size wise.  Our first Col was Col d'Aspin, a 1,489m high, 9km climb.  It was pretty gentle but with some steep-ish bits and, looking back, this was a pretty good introduction to looooooong hill climbing.  The views at the top were amazing and you could see a lot of the road we'd just snaked up.  A quick descent followed then it was time to tackle THE BIG ONE.  The Col du Tourmalet, a regular Tour de France fixture and a right-to-pass for anyone wanting to do the Pyrenees properly.  2,115m high and 18km with and average gradient of 7.4% (I learnt alot about gradients over the week!).  I was soon dropped by most of my 'comfortable' riding group and was left alone to tackle this beast.  Less than half way in, it started to rain, which kinda added to the experience.  I took it nice and easy and just concentrated on spinning the legs and counting down the km markers (thank you to whoever installed them).  Two-thirds of the way up, the road passed through a drab ski resort called La Mongie.  This was a particular dark moment where the gradient was around 10% and the rain particularly heavy.  I did, however, see a kitten running between two buildings which was a slightly surreal (considering the surroundings) if not uplifting sight.  All of a sudden I seemed to break through the cloud and it stopped raining and the sun came out.  Steam was rising from the road and I could see the end (and the lamas), but I would have to negotiate a series of hairpin bends first.  One bizarre thing I remember seeing was a car passing me very slowly and 4 perplexed faces starting at me from within.  "People, it's not THAT unusual to see cyclists struggling up here surely?!" Slowly, slowly the summit got closer.  One last hairpin to the left and there it was, a big shiny silver butt (please see below).  I let out a little yelp of joy.  I'd made it.  A quick stop at the cafe for chips and hot chocolate then a swift if not slightly white knuckle descent all the way to Argeles, where we were to spend the next two nights (n.b. on returning to the hotel I discovered my rucksack had gone missing in transit - the story deserves a seperate blog page).

Monday - I woke up on day two slightly apprehensive.  I felt good but the coach had checked with me the night before whether I'd be ok to do today's ride as it was going to be another Tourmalet style climb and a total distance of around 70+ miles.  I hadn't really considered I wouldn't be able to but this put a little seed of doubt in my mind.  I was worried I'd fall really far of the back and would need to be rescued by the minibus so I asked Dan to ride with me.  We all set off together and the speedy group (including Dan at this point!) sped off ahead whilst the comfortable group warmed up along a cycle path up to Lourdes.  We rode past the 'holy water' site where there was a long queue of wheelchair bound poor souls.  I did think about stopping to fill my bike bottle up.....Soon we were out on rolling roads and heading towards the Aubisque.  Dan had rejoined us now and after a bit of getting lost we got to the foot of the climb. The ascent of the Aubisque turned out to be the most fun climb of the week.  Dan and I sang, rapped and laughed our way up the 1,709m high, 16.6km, 7.2% average brute. Again, it rained and there wasn't much of a view so it really felt as if we were riding up a Welsh mountain.  At the top, there was a quick stop for a cup of tea and layering before the short descent to the bottom of the Col du Solour.  I almost stacked it on this descent whilst crossing a 'Canadian' grid on a bend, it was pretty hairy.  A 'quick dribble of a climb', as Julie put it, up the Solour and it was Cafe stop time followed by an arduous descent, mainly over gravel back to the hotel in Argeles.

Tuesday - I woke up feeling like a rag doll after the previous two days' triumphs.  Today we would be climbing back up the Tourmalet the other way, back up the Aspin and maybe fit it in the Col de Peyresourde.  Gazing out of the hotel room window at the pissing rain and mist did not fill me with joy and confidence.  After breakfast, with the rain still pouring, a decision was made that there'd be a group riding back to Luscan on a 'flat' route.  This pleased me and I made the decision to sack off the Tourmalet (I'd already done it! although now I kinda wish I'd gone for it) and head off on the flat route.  Starting out a ride in the rain is never fun and getting lost in Lourdes and negotiating roundabouts of death was frustrating but it turned out to be a nice 56 mile route home which had a couple of gentle climbs thrown in (well, flat was never going to mean that in the Pyrenees).  I finally managed a brick run (legs felt good) and looked forward to the next day, which would be 'rest day'.

Wednesday - Rest day.  Which involved; getting up for a 7am threshold run, an 8 mile ride to the lake, an open water swim, then the 8 mile bike ride back, via a creperie at the top of a fairly short steep hill.  It was weird how this day really did feel like a rest day, despite still putting in decent training.  The last 3 days of 5 hour plus rides made today feel like a walk in the park.  We had double crepes (savoury AND sweet) then headed home for an afternoon of lounging at the house.  And lounge we did.  I watched some of the guys getting their swim analysed in the endless pool then had a glorious nap whilst watching the Dauphiné Libéré cycling.  Dan and I went shopping for food in the drizzle and we even managed to watch The Apprentice before bed. 

Thursday - I was chomping at the bit today after a 'rest' so headed to the lake with a small hardcore crew for the 7am swim.  Today we would be climbing another big famous Col - the Port de Bales (where Andy Schlek dropped his chain) - so I stocked up with a substantial breakfast.  It was sunny (!) so everyone was in good spirits as we prepped the bikes and filled our bento boxes.  The 'comfortable' group of Mike, Nadia, Wendy and I were told to follow the speedy group as Nadia wasn't sure of directions.  We had a Garmin, what could go wrong?! Well we soon lost them, got lost and almost threw the Garmin in the river which was telling us to do a U turn from the off.  We carried on down a long, steep hill then realised we'd gone the wrong way and would have to go back up!  At the top of this hill I happened to spot a sign for Col de Ares, the first of today's hills.  However, we were going up it the wrong way, much to the bemusement of the speedy group who were by now descending it!  Back down (the correct way) and we were heading towards Port de Bales.  The views were amazing and it was a pleasure to ride in sunshine at last.  The Port de Bales, 1185m high, almost 19km with an average of 6.3%, was a great climb and I was chuffed that I managed to stick with Mike and Wendy all the way up.  The views were breathtaking but it soon misted up towards the top.  More tea at the top then it was time to layer up and decend.  Descending is a funny old business.  Whilst it's exhilarating, rewarding and damn fun, I frequently find it quite hard work and often really quite scary!  There were quite a few switchbacks to negotiate on the way down and I found myself hurting down a road just metres away from a sheer drop.  The thought that one false move and it's gonna hurt...a lot...is never too far away.  We descended around 20km down to the town of Luchon where both groups stopped to have (a late) lunch and where I ate a very tasty roll (for the record:  wholegrain walnut bread, french ham, blue cheese and tomato - yuuuuum, thanks Dan).  From here, we 'chainganged' it 20km downhill towards Luscan into a headwind.  This was a toughest part of the day and where I decided that a big bread roll and crisps wasn't the best nutrition for such exertion!  I rounded the day off with a 15 minute brick run with Mike followed by much stretching, foam rollering and, of course, eating.

Friday - The last day was soon upon us.  There were big plans for today (Col de Menthe, Col de Peyresourde and the Col des Ares TT) but alas, the rain had returned and enthusiasm to ride for 6 hard hours was almost non-existant.  The decision was made to ride a 45 mile loop which included the Col de Buret and Col de Ares, where we'd do a time trial.  By the time we'd set off, the rain had died but it was damp and dull.  We arrived at the foot of Col des Ares and everyone psyched themselves up for a stint of hard graft.  I went off first (being the slowest, meh) and was held in the proper TT start position and everything (which I wasn't keen on). 

Off I shot, up the Ares (so many jokes).  Pete soon passed me but it was amusing to see him in his Elvis glasses.  I kept spinning, weaving up the pleasant 3% average but making sure I was working.  250m from the finish line, I felt Wendy (who'd started a minute later!) coming up behind me so I pushed for the line.  Inevitably, she pipped me at the line but I really enjoyed it.  26 minutes 31 seconds and my name's now on the website - yay!  From the summit, we carried on to the village at the foot of the Port de Bales where we had lunch.  I didn't fancy just chips, so when the cafe owner announced that he had some 'verry goood locale saucisson' I was keen.  I wasn't so keen half an hour later when I was charged TEN EUROS (six of that just for the one sausage - preposterous). 

Bellies full of expensive sausage, we rolled down the few miles back to Luscan and finished the week off (sniff) with one final brick run.  We then had to sadly pack the bikes away before going out for dinner at a local restaurant where Will was declared the winner of the TT and was now lying second on the all time list.

It was quite possibly the best 'holiday' yet.  When I tell people where I've been and what I did, I mostly get looks suggesting 'hmm that doesn't sound fun' or 'are you mad?' but to me, it was the perfect week (bar the weather).  I feel the time spent climbing those monster cols has given me good ammo for dealing with the inevitable dark moments of Challenge Copenhagen. Above all, it was a great week doing what I love, with a great crew of people and quality time spent with my boy.

Massive Week

Last week was my biggest week of training to date and that's without including the Swashbuckler half-iron distance on the Sunday (not technically in the same week but close enough!). 

I managed a grand total of 15 hours and 3 minutes which included:

Swimming - 2h42 (6.8km)
Cycling - 7h57 (157.7km)
Running - 3h01 (26km)
Gym - 1h21

The highlight (or more like lowlight) of the week was Saturday morning's ride to Monmouth and back.  It's been pretty much non stop windy for the last month and I've had enough of battling through it.  Andrea, Pete and I set off early at 7am in the drizzle and wind.  I didn't have high hopes for a great ride.  Cycling over the old Severn Bridge was an experience.  Being picked up by the wind and thrown into the bubbling, brown water of the world's second largest tidal estuary below wouldn't have been pleasant but I managed to stay on the road. 

Once over the bridge the weather improved and it was enjoyable again.  There was a great decent into Monmouth and I got to push it on the aero bars to Tintern.  Approaching the Severn Bridge again it started to drizzle and the wind picked up.  Bleurgh.  Going back over the bridge was even scarier and once off it we had to endure newly gritted roads and a fierce headwind.  I had my whingey face on by now as we struggled on at 10mph. 

By the time I got home I was soaked through, covered in road scum and dishevelled.  I did manage a 15 minute brick run where I was pleased to find my legs didn't feel too bad after 80 windy miles.

I felt pretty pleased with myself on Sunday evening having managed to fit in an hour's lake swim, friend's BBQ and an 85 minute run......I woke up Monday morning feeling like a ragdoll but it was rest day therefore a lie in was in order.

And so I'm now on recovery week and eagerly anticipating the Pyrenees Training Camp which we're heading off to this Saturday.

Race Report: Swashbuckler Middle Distance

Being woken up at 2am by the howling wind outside the tent did not put me in a great frame of mind for doing a half ironman triathlon in a few hours.  I dozed and shivered until my 3am alarm, sat up and ate the pre-milked museli that I'd conveniently placed to hand the night before.  On my headtorch lit walk to the camp loos, it started to drizzle.  By the time Dan and I left the campsite, it was more than a drizzle.  The weather forecast had predicted overnight rain but it hadn't occurred to me that I'd, in fact, be up 'overnight'!

Arriving at race HQ at Buckler's Hard at around 4am, it was distinctly dark. There didn't seem to be floodlights and all you could see were weary, weather-beaten triathletes in the headlights, pushing their bikes somewhere. 

We found transistion fairly quickly but thank goodness for the headtorch.  There was no lighting and daylight had only just started to make itself known so goodness knows how torchless people coped with the faff of setting up transistion!  Before you knew it, however, it got light, the rain stopped and the wind seemed to die down a bit.  I squeezed myself into my shiny new wetsuit, downed a Torq Guarana gel (it tasted like Calpol and there was NO coffee stall) and huddled together with the other BADTri ladies. 

I'd been worrying about the swim.  The race organisers had sent out warnings about the strength of the tide in the river and how it was 'unsuitable for weaker swimmers', hmmm.  The hooter went and off we all went.  There was plenty of space so there wasn't the usual washing machine and limbs everywhere scenario.  I settled into a nice rhythm and the outward leg of the 2 lap out & back was with the flow.  On the way back, against the flow, you could definitely feel it, but it wasn't too bad.  By the second lap, the field had really spread out and I found myself more or less alone in the water except for this one lady who was swimming alongside me, but about 30m to my right.  The home straight leg was pretty tough and I had to give myself a talking to a few times.  I could see the high-viz jacket of the race director standing at the swim exit from quite far out but it seemed like an eternity before he properly came into view and I dizzily made my way out of the river.  I looked at my watch.  47 minutes, hmm not bad, considering the tide.  Here I am exiting the river, complete with weird grin and face.

I trotted up to tranisition where most of the bikes had already gone.  My wetsuit came off pretty easily but getting socks, arm warmers and gloves on proved less so.  I only half pulled on my arm warmers and decided to sort them out on the bike.  The sun was shining by now but it took a while to warm up on the bike.  I immediately starting getting a pain in my stomach which I hoped would pass.  3 miles in, my chain came off whilst changing gear.  Hmm, that's never happened before.  So I had to stop, get my hands dirty and remount on a hill.  It happened again 2 miles later.  I was getting annoyed by now and losing some places!  Eventually the gears and I settled and I started concentrating on nutrition.  The pain in my stomach hadn't gone away but I could manage to eat my energy bars and drink.  I didn't fancy any gel though so I concentrated on drinking often.  I eventually caught up with Gill and we had a brief but bizarre conversation about wind, bad stomachs, farting, immodium and burping.  This is the norm in triathlon.

I was going at a good pace but it seemed to be getting windier.  At one point I was riding on aero bars, peddaling down a hill at 10mph.  I was soon approaching T2 and I was happy to come in a few minutes under 3 hours with an average of 17mph! 


Aero on the bike.

Cycling shoes, helmet, gloves and arm warmers off. Trainers and visor on.  My first priority was finding a loo and thankfully there were 2 portaloos in transistion.  Heading out of transistion I saw Dan, probably mumbled something and set about shuffling.  My legs felt ok and the pain in my stomach was gone.  All those brick runs had been worth it.  Being at the slower end of the spectrum and on loop one of two, the first loop was busy with the speedies overtaking me all the way round.  I enjoyed this as I love to people and kit watch.  Gill caught up with me, we ran together for a while, but then she left me to it.  Loop one (7 miles) seemed to pass fairly easily and quickly.  Running back into race HQ, the support was great but it was pretty depressing to see so many people had finished already.  Ah well, on I went.  Clouds had gathered again by now and it was even windier.  On a lonely stretch of exposed road, I found myself shouting "F~*k off!" at the wind as I got buffeted and blown all over the place.  There were much less people out on the second loop but I did manage to overtake some.  I felt ok, kept the pace very steady and made sure I drank at each aid station.  I ate some shot blocks and finished my energy bar (from the bike!).  The last section of the run involved a very long and straight path through some woods.  This seemed to go on forever.  I homed in on a guy in front of me and eventually caught him.  Much to my amusement, he had a hole in the back of his shorts.


Struggling up the hill.

Finally I was nearing the finish but not before having to run the final few 100 meters up a hill.  Dan and all the BADTri lot were there doing some great cheering.  Crossing the line I don't think I did my usual arms aloft thing. I was just glad to have finished.  Check out the medal, one of the best on my hook.

On reflection, this was a great day's training.  I shouldn't compare it to last year's Vitruvian Middle Distance (which I did 13 minutes faster) as the course and weather were so different.  I also haven't been specifically training for this distance.  I was definitely pleased with my bike leg and amazed by the 17mph average!  I felt calm and fairly strong on the swim and probably had some left on the run (bike and run nutrition needs work though).  Next day, I felt tired from the 3am wake up call but had no aches or pains.

So onwards from here.  I'm hoping to do 90 miles on the bike this Saturday then the countdown to the Pyrenees training camp begins!