Learning in the heat

On Sunday I took part in the San Domenico 20 mile race.  It sounds exotic but it's a lovely little local race held in Merthyr Tydfil.  I did this race 2 years ago in preparation for the Brighton Marathon.  My friend Becca is doing her first Marathon in London next month so I persuaded her that it would be a good idea to do at least one long run as a race and with company.  I just fancied doing the race as I like getting the early season run miles in.

The day dawned bright and sunny. The previous day had been pretty warm for March and I got a bit concerned about how hot it would be on the run.  I've never been very happy running in the sun and heat.  I like nothing better than to layer up on a freezing cold (but sunny) day and head out on a long run.  The sun tends to make me wilt.

I don't usually carry water in races but I thought it best to this time.  I stocked up my running belt with one bottle of water, one of strawberry Nuun and a packet of shot bloks.

The race started at 10am and Becca and I aimed to run at 10 minute mile pace.  After a few dog-leg laps we headed out onto the Taff Trail.  The temperature was ok but the sun was already blazing in our faces.  I'd worn my visor and sunglasses as I can't stand glare (I do like the sun really).  After 3 miles, we worked out we were running at around 9 minute 15 mile pace so we tried to slow down.  I felt fine, but not 100%.

At 7 miles is quite an enormous hill which heads up out of the valley, rewarding you with a great view at the top.  I ran up most of the hill but walked when it got too steep.  Becca ran all the way.  Once at the top you gently decend down towards Treharris.  I like to run down hills pretty fast, which I'm not sure is always a good idea during a long run.  At the end of the decent was a 14% downhill which I ran down like a 6 year old.  Once the path was flat again, I realised I felt pretty drained.

The next 3 miles wound along the side of the Taff on a stony path.  This didn't help and I started to feel pretty unsettled and hot.  I'd worn a t-shirt with my badtri vest over it and concluded that this was probably too much for this weather.  Everything was strating to get on my nerves - my belt was too tight and hot around my back, the straps on it kept flapping, my visor was too hot. 

At 12.5 miles I picked up a High5 IsoGel which was quite a welcome relief.  I perked up a  bit and I felt better for the next 2 or so miles (I might start using IsoGel for running).  After having to climb up some big steps through an underpass, we were back on the Taff Trail again, heading back towards Merthyr.

With 6 miles to go I was struggling keep up with Becca and slowing down.  She was doing so well and she was determined to run all the way and overcome that mental barrier.  I started to adopt a bad attitude, that "why am I here? I don't need to do this" attitude I tend to get if I'm not training for an imminent event.  I did want to be there, I just wanted to get it done.  I started walking up short hills which disappointed me. 

I do enjoy running with people but only if I'm having a good run.  When the going gets tough I just want to be on my own.  So I eventually told Becca to go on, with about 3 miles to go.  I'd finished my drinks supply by now and was downing as much water as I could at the drinks station.   I was so hot and told anyone who would listen!

I finally got to the 19 mile marker and tried to pick up the pace and get the race done.  I still walked up two short hills in the last mile but managed to then 'power' on to the finish.  I even managed to outrun another lady.  Becca was there at the end to greet me and I finished with a smile on my face, as ever.

I beat my time from 2 years ago by almost 5 minutes but I was hoping to go faster.  The 16 mile hilly run to my gran's 2 weeks ago had suggested that I was running faster.  I'd been very comfortable on that run and it was a dry, bright but cool day.  I can only conclude that I don't do running in 'hot' weather.  What concerns me though is that it wasn't even that hot, no more than 20 degrees.

One problem was my outfit.  I had one too many layers on.  This was the first warm spell of the year, so I don't expect my body's ready for heat yet.  Over the coming months I'm going to try to get comfortable running in heat.  Hopefully we'll have a few hot spells which will give me the opportunity to head out for short midday runs and test out hydration strategies.  I don't want to wilt in my two middle distance triathlons, coming up in May and June when who knows what temperatures will be like!

2012 - Big year, big start. Llanelli Half Marathon race report.

There hasn't been anything much to report on the race front over the last few months.  Unlike last year, I hadn't entered any winter off road races despite being keen on doing a few.  Moving house and general busyness meant many races passed me by. I of course continued to train.

Ironman Wales is my main focus this year.  I'm fairly nervous but excited about it.  It feels like this enormous dragon, a big and angry race, waiting to be slayed in September.  I want to be in the very best condition and the fittest I've ever been to be able to tackle it.  It's not going to be easy.

As usual for the first few months of the year, I've been running quite a bit.  I've also been swimming lots and enjoying the 50m pool in Cardiff. I've been doing a lot of pull and paddle work.....I think I'm getting faster.  I've not done that much cycling, which is worrying me a bit, but I did manage to navigate my way, all by myself, around the Vale of Glamorgan to carve out a 50 mile ride on a beautiful spring-like morning.  I felt great throughout the ride and I'm looking forward to building on it.

Since Christmas, I've been enjoying my running.  Wearing my Newton trainers has certainly changed my running technique and I now feel springier and more efficient.  The way I felt on my long runs around a mainly flat Cardiff had suggested that my aim of a spring sub 2 hour marathon may not be impossible. After the unpleasantness of the Cardiff Half in October, I was looking forward to seeing if less training over the winter (i.e. not Ironman training) meant that I could keep threshold running for longer.

On Sunday, my sister Elin and I drove down to Llanelli to take part in the Waterside Half Marathon.  I had done this half four years ago, in preparation for the London Marathon so I knew the course was more or less flat with a few benign bumps here and there.  Perfect for trying to get a pb.

We awoke at 5.15am to pissing rain outside.  I've become immune to worrying about race weather now and "they'd" said that the rain would stop and clear by 9 o'clock, and so it did.  We arrived in Llanelli in ample time to have a stroll around and a cup of tea in the car.  It was cold and not as windy as I thought it would be.  There was a nice atmosphere and I felt relaxed and happy.  Waiting for the start with Elin, I actually felt excited to get the race going as opposed to indifferent which is how I felt before the Cardiff half.

Eventually, after a bit of standing on my tip-toes to see what was going on and why we hadn't started at the advertised 9am start time, the crowd shuffled forward and broke into a trot.  Unusually for me, I also started trotting and I was off on my quest for a sub 2 hour or at the very least a pb.

I'd told myself before the race that I wasn't going to get hung up on checking my time at each mile marker.  I couldn't resist though, and at mile 1 looked down to see 8m56.  Wow, I thought, could I keep this up?  I felt fairly comfortable and was enjoying 'people watching' the other runners with their various kit, paraphenalia and running styles, of which there were some bizarre displays.

The weather was perfect by now.  A little bit of sun and a light cool breeze.  I love running in the cold.  At around mile 4 the course turns back on itself and I eventually see Elin, who's looking like she enjoying herself.  I take on a shot blok and almost choke on some water.

By mile 5 I'd managed to start running alongside some bloke who had THE most annoying breathing sounds.  Ok, everyone has to breathe, but this was ridiculous.  He was running more or less the same speed as me so I couldn't shake him off.  It was at this point as well that I started getting probably the worst stitch I've had, all down my right rib cage.  I tried to take deep breaths and slowed down (but so did the annoying Breather!). 

By the time we'd got back to the start point (to start another out and back section) it seemed I'd managed to get rid of the Breather and the stitch.  Excellent.  As we headed out along the coast I started to feel the wind stir a bit more but not enough to feel the benefit of a tail wind.  The next time I remember on my watch was 1h30 at 10 miles.  So up to this point, I'd been maintaining a pace of 9 minute 1 second per mile.

As we got to the final turnaround point at around 11 miles I started to tire.  I tried to keep up with a small group who'd been talking about making it sub 2.  As we turned to head west again, we were hit by a ferocious headwind.  Well this isn't going to help is it, I thought.  I could now feel my quads and hamstrings screaming out for me to stop.  My heart rate was high.

I was slowing down but I was determined.  The group I'd tried to follow had done well and were now about 50 metres ahead of me.  I passed Elin coming the other way and she gave me a slight pained expresssion, as did I I'm sure.  I took on some water and walked a few steps.  I immeditely felt the momentum go and my hips starting to seize so I forced myself to run again.  Turning the last corner near an appartment block, I could see the finish, a mile away.

I was getting a bit delirious and my quest was turning me into a messy, heavy breathing, snot covered, hair all over the place crazy woman.  I looked at my watch and I remember it said 1h50 something.  I had a slight panic.  I powered on, leaning into the strong wind which seemed intent on pushing me backwards.  Just before the 13 mile mark was a fairly steep, short hill.  About half way up I broke into a walk again, wondering if it would be quicker to walk (!).  Weirdly, a girl next to me started walking aswell and I slurred a "come on let's go" to her.  I'm not sure she appreciated it.  Running again, I got to the top of the hill.  All that was left to do now was to run down the other side and turn a corner into the finish.  I remember my watch saying 1h58 something.

I picked up great momentum down the hill and carried it on to the turn.  I got blocked by a guy dressed as Big Bird from Sesame St.  I rounded him (and tutted) and strided towards the line.  I heard a familiar voice shouting "come on Lowriiiiii!!!!" (my mum) but there was no time to look.  I cross the line and stopped my watch.  01:59:10.

I raised my arms aloft in rather embarrassing style.  I was so relieved and happy.  In dramatic fashion, I draped myself over the barriers and got asked by a St. John's Ambulance chap if I was ok.  I certainly was.

For my troubles I received a rather novel trainer shaped trophy.  An excellent memento to remind me of the day I finally got a 1h something against my name for a half marathon.

Of course I'm still not 100% satisfied.  I wasn't happy with the way I wilted towards the end.  Was it the headwind?  Maybe.  Next time I'd like to stay strong throughout the race.

Next race is San Domenico 20 with my friend Becca, who's running her first London Marathon next month.

Wet, windy, hilly, beautiful, awesome - Marathon Eryri

The weekend just gone was my second running of the Snowdonia Marathon, held in Llanberis for the past 29 years with the reputation of 'Britain's toughest marathon'.

Two years ago, by chance, I'd seen the highlights programme on s4c and decided there are then I'd enter the next year, despite atrocious looking weather.  I don't know what made me want to do it, I just knew it was the race for me. 

I'd booked myself into this race again as a post-ironman event to look forward to.  I'd done a similar amount of training to last year but my limbs were a lot wearier.  In the last two weeks, I'd had niggles in my glute and hip flexor areas and was a little worried about how they'd fare on the mountain roads.

So I found myself, for the second year running, cowering in the wind and rain in Llanberis, anxiously looking out of windows at the yet again unpleasant weather draping the spectacular landscape outside.  It was raining that drizzle that gets you wet through and sheets of it were being blown about by ghoulish sounding gusts.

There's a ten minute walk from the village to the start, so we all sheepishly left the deep-heat stinking village hall where we were all sheltering (and queueing for toilets and making coats and skirts out of bin liners) and made our way through the elements to the start line.  I joined the toilet queue again but had to abandon it through fear of being sat on the John as the hooter sounded, so said my goodbyes to Dan (who went off on his own 2 hour run) and soon enough I'd placed myself three-quarters of the way back and was excited to get started.  I was certainly more pleased to be at this start line than at the Cardiff half.

My aim for this race was to enjoy it as much as I'd enjoyed last year, to (maybe) beat my time and (perhaps) get under 5 hours (last year I did 5 hours 10) but I didn't want to put too much pressure on.

The hooter sounded and we were off.  The first mile is downhill then flat, so it was easy to get into a nice gentle rhythm.  From around 2.5 miles we start to ascend the Llanberis Pass - a 3 and a bit mile, winding road up through the U shaped valley to Pen-y-Pass.  It was pretty hard going and I was occasionally comically swept across the road by whooshing gusts.  Strangely though, at the top of the Pass, the air was still.  It was a strange sensation.

Once over the Pass, a little drink, then it was time to do some descending.  The next 3 miles or so were downhill and some of it offroad, so it was great fun.  Last year, I'd run like an old woman down this offroad section and got overtaken so many times but this year I hurtled down like a mountain goat, picking people off and flailing my arms around like a windmill for balance.  Last winter's forray into off road running had obviously helped.

At mile 8 we were back on the slighlty undulating road so it was time to get back into rhythm and maybe even push a bit.  It was around this point I started to feel real discomfort in my right hip.  It was the same niggle I'd been feeling for the past few weeks but this hurt.  My form started to go a bit squiffy and I couldn't push like I wanted to.  Other than this, I felt ok and was able to keep going.  It was the most uncomfortable I've ever been in a race though.

I shuffled my way to Beddgelert, the half way point.  I was impressed to find that I got to the 13 mile point in 2 hours 15.  Here we encountered the next hill, a 2 mile slog up towards Llyn Gadar.  This is an annoying hill as it has many false summits and for some reason, runners kept switching from the left hand side of the road to the right...and back again for no particular reason.  Despite most people around me doing the 'walk-then-run-past-me-then-walk-again-whilst-I-overtake-them-again' routine I kept running.  I'm not a fan of the walk-run concept unless it's absolutely  necessary i.e. when a hill gets too steep and it's quicker to walk up.

Next up was my favourite bit of the course, running alongside Llyn Cwellyn (it's difficult to choose a favourite bit but this takes it by a whisker).  This section was pretty flat and despite feeling some stiffness the pain in my hip was gone.  I tried to keep a good pace going and to take my mind of things I started to hassle other runners for chats.  I chatted to a girl from Prestatyn who was doing her first marathon (!!) after only having done one half marathon.  Respect to her, what a marathon baptism of fire.  Next I spoke to an American lady, who asked me if I was familiar with the course so I told her what was coming up and she gave a look of 'what have I let myself in for here?'.  I tried to stick with her, but she eventually peeled away.

I knew what was to come and had promised myself that I'd walk from the bottom of the gigantic hill from mile 22.  The village of Waunfawr took an age to come into view.  Last year, I remember catching up with an old guy who was running with his dog.  I couldn't believe my eyes when at almost exactly the same spot as last year, I caught up with him again.  The guy must be in his 70s and the dog must be the equivalent in dog years! 

The hill started to pitch up as we got into Waunfawr.  Just before I stopped running to start the march, some kindly spectators had laid out little bits of the most delicious flapjacks for us.  I tagged onto a Scottish lady this time and we kept up with eachother as we stomped and swayed our arms up the hill.  We discussed whether we'd get in under 5 hours - "hmm, it might be tight" said the lady.  This spurred me on and she evetually fell back.  As it got flatter towards the top, I started to do bursts of running, aiming for a rock or a post in a field ahead of me. I was tired by now though. 

The final descent into Llanberis had haunted my dreams for the last 12 months.  Last year, I'd gingerly made my way down the grassy trail, trying to avoid the raging torrent which had started to flow down the path after one of the many cloudbursts of rain we'd expierenced last year.  I remember so many people overtaking me and being angry at not being able to let myself go.  This year, I was determined not to be a baby and make it look like I knew what I was doing when it came to downhill trail running!

Luckily, there were no torrents this year but the constant drizzle had made the path a little muddy and slidey.  This didn't stop me though, and I charged my way down (arms flailing again).  I overtook people.  The path eventually turns to tarmac and about 2 metres from 'safety' I almost managed to go head over heels, but managed to save myself, albeit with an accompanied curse word.

Around this point was a man helpfully informing us we had 1000 metres to go.  I looked at my watch, 4 hours 54 - hmmm, can I do a kilometre in 6 minutes downhill?  So I tried to run even harder, ignoring the pounding pain in my '25 miles into a marathon' legs.

One final ridiculously steep section then I was on Llanberis High St with about 250 metres to go.  I looked at my watch - 5 hours 14 seconds.......damn.  I stopped trying so hard and got back into a jog towards the finish line.  Final time, 5 hours 1 minute 16 seconds. 

I was soaked to the bone.  I got handed a foil cover (which almost immediately blew away) and my second Marathon Eryri slate coaster.  They're my favourite race momentos.

I was a tiny bit gutted but elated at how the race had gone.  I'd smashed last year's time by over 9 minutes and I'd run how I wanted to, although I wasn't pleased with how my hip had felt.  I think if I'd been feeling a little fresher I'd have been able to push a bit harder on those flat bits.  My legs felt ruined at the end though and they're still pretty sore 5 days later.

Marathon Eryri is such a great event, quite possibly my favourite, despite how tough it is.  I'll more than likely enter nexr year, despite it being only 8 weeks after Ironman Wales.  Will I be fit and fresh enough to break 5 hours?

Cardiff Half Marathon Disappointment

I've wanted to break the two hour half marathon duck since I recorded a time of 2 hours 3 minutes at last year's Cardiff Half Marathon.  Last year's race was held on a sunny but frosty day, ideal for me since I don't like running when it's hot. I remember feeling strong all the way round and thoroughly enjoying the race. 

Cardiff has historically been a fast, flat race through beautiful parks before heading down to the picturesque Bay.  After having such a great race last year I was hoping all that training for Copenhagen would've increased my stamina and speed endurance.  Since Copenhagen, I'd done a fair amount of running, the main focus being getting the miles in for the Snowdonia Marathon at the end of October.  In my midweek runs though, I'd tried to push my pace.

The morning of the race was stress free and leisurely.  Dan and I stayed at Dan's friend's flat which was a 5 minute walk from the start.  The morning dawned grey and misty but the sun soon came through and it looked like it was going to be a warm-ish day.

I can only describe my feelings towards this race as indifferent.  I was neither excited nor nervous.  I didn't question why I was there but I had a nagging doubt in my mind about breaking two hours.   Dan would run with me and try to pace me around. 

The hooter went and 5 minutes later (!) we crossed the start line and began trotting.  I always find that people start off way too fast in races but this time, I followed the trend.  After a twisty route out of the Bay we were running up a dual carriage way towards the city centre.  At mile one, I looked at my watch - 9m20 something - hmmm, ok.  I also noticed my heart rate - way too high.  The sun had started to make an appearance and I was already beginning to feel hot.  So all in all, I wasn't too comfortable.  I felt all the little inclines and just couldn't settle down.

At around 4 miles, we caught up with Dan's friend Gwyn and the two boys started chatting.  Slowly, I started to fall back and eventually they were out of sight. 

So on I plodded hoping to settle into my running and maintain a decent pace.  Every now and again I thought I was beginning to feel good but this was false hope.  At around mile 6 the route took us onto another dual carriage way which gradually climbed up and up and on and on.  The sun shone like a torch on my head and I rued the decision to not wear my visor.

I got into a viscious circle.  I desperately wanted to get this race done so I tried to push - the faster I run the sooner this will be over - but the harder I tried the worse I felt.  I really wanted to stop and walk.

Eventually, after possibly the most boring route ever, Cardiff Bay was in sight and we were down to the last couple of miles.  By now my buttocks and hips had decided to throw in the towel and I felt like I was in shuffle-mode.  I got to mile 9 in 1hr27 (around 9.5 minute miles)......I eventually finished in 2hrs10 so in the last 4 miles I slowed to an average of 10m45 miles!!  I was glad to cross the line but not pleased at all by how it had gone.

On reflection, I think I must've been tired.  The summer of iron training has taken its toll.  I think I'll try to break 2 hours again in the Spring, hopefully after a winter of rest (well, I'll keep doing some training!).

There's one last race, however....Snowdonia Marathon this weekend.  Then, I'll rest!

Six Weeks Later....

Over six weeks have passed since I covered just over 140 miles, all on my own steam, in Copenhagen (which I'll refer to as cph).  So how am I feeling now?

It took about a month for my body to feel back to normal. 

The day after, I awoke feeling pretty sore, as expected.  In fact I probably would've been disappointed if I wasn't aching like mad. I spent the day mainly lounging around basking in a little pool of pride and satisfaction.  We went out for a walk in the afternoon and I was treated to a beer and an enormous ice-cream AT THE SAME TIME.  The most unpleasant side effect of the day before was swollen feet.

The soreness subsided within around two days. I took the next few days off training completely then very gradually started again.

The first few times I went to the pool, I found myself standing at the end of the lane chatting, enjoying bobbing in the water and knowing I didn't have to train hard now.  I'm now doing 2 club swim sessions a week as I'm keen to maintain my swim fitness over the winter and to work on my technique and strength.......an ongoing struggle it seems.  During the first few 'proper' swim sessions after cph, I felt as if I'd completely lost my swimming mojo.  I felt sloppy, sluggish and slow!  My last swim session was brilliant, however, and I came away from the pool feeling satisfied and on a little high (it was also a Friday and sunny).  I was also given instruction by Andy the coach to use the pull buoy for over half of my sets over the winter.....this will hopefully build my arm strength.

I've cycled most weekends but the pressure of having to cover miles isn't there now.  I've been out a few times with Dan, taken the BAD Tri novice group out a few times but my cycling 'highlight' since cph was riding to Cheddar Gorge and Wells to watch the Tour of Britain go by.  For some reason, I hadn't thought about the fact the a round trip to Wells would be way over 50 miles so I found myself quite short on food and drink and, by the time the race finished, motivation to ride the 25 miles home!  The ride home was mentally a bit of struggle but it was lovely none the less.  After 40 miles though, my left knee started to ache, something that first made itself known on those Danish roads.  By the time I'd got back into Bristol I was having trouble pushing down with my left leg.  A few rides later and I'm still getting some pain, so it's something to keep an eye on.  I'm not planning on cycling for a few weeks.

My first few post-cph runs scared me a bit.  My heart rate was going through the roof, especially running up hills and the runs were, in general, pretty miserable.  Like my swimming though, my run mojo is coming back, culminating in an awsome hilly run around a drizzly Bristol at the weekend.  Next on the race list is the Cardiff Half Marathon, where I'd really really like to break two hours.  I did 2h04 last year, so it's doable, but the thought of doing 9 minute miles for 13.1 miles is pretty daunting.  Two weeks later I'm doing the Snowdonia Marathon for the second time.  It was a brilliant event last year - tough but great fun and in stunning scenery.

How do I feel about having done an ironman-distance race?  Every now and again I'll remember and I truly get a warm and fuzzy feeling.  I sometimes even smile to myself about it.  Someone I hadn't seen for ages asked me what races I'd done this year and I said Copenhagen.  She asked if I'd done a relay leg.  It was immensly satisfying to tell her "no, I did the whole thing".  I was proud.

After Snowdonia I'll have NO booked up races.......that'll change soon though.  I went to watch the inaugural Ironman Wales in Tenby a few weekends back and pretty much decided as soon as I got into Tenby that I want to do it next year.  The atmosphere was electric and I'd forgotten how beautiful Tenby really is.  I'm just waiting for entries to open....

Challenge Copenhagen - The Race Report

A little over a week has passed and I'm now sat back at my desk, moping about being at work but still buzzing from the great time and experience I had last week!


The few days before going to Copenhagen felt manic.  Being at work and not being particularly busy felt like a complete waste of time as it felt like I had a load of things to do and think about before flying out.  I'm not really sure what those things to do and think about were but I sure felt a little stressed!  Add to that organising the club supporters t-shirts and co-ordinating their distribution before leaving and it all got a tad too much.  Anyway, packing, t-shirt distribution, bike sorting etc all went relatively smoothly partly thanks to the endless lists I'd written.

It was fun getting to Heathrow as one by one, fellow Copenhagen bound Bad-triers started to appear, all looking apprehensive with friends and family in tow.  After a wobbly take off, we were on our way.

Arriving in Copenhagen on the Thursday evening meant there was ample time before raceday to settle down, register, peruse the race expo and stroll around the seemingly calm, pretty city.  On the Friday morning, after the race briefing, a few of us went down to the lagoon to do a recce swim.  We considered ourselves brave souls for going in without wetsuits, especially when several jelly fish were spotted!  Martin even got stung on the leg!  Friday evening was spent making sure my bike was ok and a final practice with changing a tyre tube (something which I'd previously had tantrums over!).

I started Saturday off with a gentle 20 minute run along a part of the run course (followed by an enormous hotel breakfast).  In the afternoon, almost all the BADTri crew cycled together down to rack our bikes.  Half way there it started to rain and the wind picked up....ugh, I hoped it wasn't going to be like the next day.  Leaving the bike on the outside rack in the howling wind left me feeling quite nervous and the reality of what I was about to undertake was really starting to dawn on me.....I think I remained calm though.  Late Saturday afternoon saw a surprise visit to the Aussie pub next door to watch Wales v England rugby......I hadn't envisioned spending the afternoon before undertaking my first ironman in the pub but it was a welcome distraction.  The rest of the day flew by, and after an ample dinner at the hotel's "light buffet" it was time to retire to the room, eat the tub of ambrosia rice I'd bought with me (a tradition of mine before races) and start to really fret.  Dan and I must've watched ten episodes of Curb Your Enthusiasm before it was really finally time to switch the light off and try to sleep (I think I was putting it off).  It took about an hour but I did get to sleep albeit one of those annoying 'I-keep-waking-up-to-check-the-time' sleeps but at least it was better than the half hour I'd got before my first marathon.

The alarm sounded at 3.50am. Eek. I had a shower to wake me up and feel as fresh as I was going to feel that day.  I ate my lovingly prepared slop (soaked museli!), a banana, half a bagel with peanut butter and necked a coffee and bottle of lucozade sport (another pre-race tradition).  We left en masse at 5am and made our way through the Copenhagen streets to the metro whilst being watched with bemusement by local drunk revellers.  By the time we got the the race start, it was light, the temperature was agreeable and there was minimal wind.  It was still only around 5.45 so there was ample time to faff around before race start at 7.15.

I got to my bike (which thankfully hadn't been blown away) and started to dress it with food, water bottles and my garmin.  I pumped up my front tyre.  I walked around to my rear tyre and found it to be as flat as a pancake. Hmm, weird.....I pumped it up regardless and hoped for the best.  Within about a minute, Nina, who was racked next to me went "Errr Lowri?" and pointed at a piece of infamous sharp Danish flint sticking out of my brand new Michelin tyre.  ARGH I had a puncture!  Cue a mad panic.  I'd had a huge fear of puncturing during the race and not being able to fix it but I hadn't expected this predicament.  In my panic to turn the bike over to take the wheel off, I managed to spill a load water from my aero bottle.  Thankfully, Andrea was at hand to calm me down and the angel who is Will took over and fixed the thing in 2 minutes.  Phew.  Goodness me.  I really hoped this wasn't how the rest of my day would pan out.

Panic over, it was time to make a final trip to the ladies (well, smelly unisex portaloo), do a little more faffing at the bike then get into the wetsuit.  I handed my rucksack over to Dan and did well to hold back tears as he gave me a little pep talk.  My emotions were all over the place at this point - a mixture of excitement and terror - and I just wanted to get the damn race started.

It was nice to wait in the starting pen with my club mates. It wasn't a 'ladies only' start so myself and a few other Badtri ladies positioned ourselves towards the back of the pack.  A quick rendition of what is quite possibly the cheesiest song I've ever heard (the Challenge Family anthem) and a scary siren sounded.  Some "arghs" and "good lucks", a little trot and I plopped into the water.  The race was finally here.

The Swim - and so I started swimming and immediately noticed the wetsuit was chaffing my neck despite lubing up with bodyglide.  Ah well, the discomfort soon went (numbed?).  I noticed that Gill was swimming alongside me, which was kinda comforting and there wasn't much of a scrap for position.  The lagoon was fairly clear so there was plenty to spot in the water, especially the jelly fish which were lurking beneath in places.  There were 3 spectator lined bridges across the lagoon and I soon spotted some Bad Tri supporters, Gill's family and finally my sister and parents.  I gave them eye contact, a smile and a wave.  After this, just over half way into the swim I lost Gill and ended up around 30 metres away from her (how the hell does this happen?!).  It was at this point too I started to feel a little bored and that my form was slipping but tried to maintain a strong steady pace.  People from the next wave had started to overtake.  Beyond the final bridge was quite a narrow section of lagoon and it got quite scrappy and crowded here.....I love a bit of a scrap though.  I saw Dan going under the last bridge (gave him a wave too) and the finish and transistion tent was soon in sight. I marched out of the water in 1h17 which I was kinda happy with (I'd hoped for 1h15).  I spotted Elin then noticed that my calf muscles were a bit crampy.


I'm sighting here, honestly.  This isn't how I swam the whole thing!

T1 - I really hadn't expected to see naked men in transistion especially as we were told in the briefing that the tent would be divided to male and female changing.  Ah well, this was no time for gawping and tutting.  One thing I learnt from this T1 is that I really should have decided exactly what was going into each jersey pocket rather than having some 'optional' items and having to decide what to take with me.  9 minutes later I was clip clopping my way to my bike, praying my tyres were still inflated.  They were.

The bike - In my excitement, I immediately got onto my bike once I'd taken it off the rack, rode about 2 metres then realised this was definitely not allowed.  I sheepishly got off and hoped no one had seen.  It was a nice feeling to get out on the bike.  The first section was flat and fast with a tail wind.  I overtook a few (but got mainly overtaken) but I tried to remain calm and made sure my heart rate didn't shoot up too much.  Once we'd wound our way through Copenhagen's streets the route followed a flat coastal road north before making a left inland on a rural, indulating road. It then turned onto a dual-carriage way where there was a TdF style spectator filled hill (a very small hill in comparison), which was fun. By the second loop, Dan had made it to the hill and offered silly but funny encouragement.  I took this opportunity to offload surplus supplies from my pockets. Before the end of the loop was a mile long cobbled section which took me by surprise.  I didn't like it and worried it would cause a puncture.  Taking in plenty of nutrition and fluid has never been my strong point but I thought I managed it well, eating 3 energy bars, a pitta bread with hummus, some crystalised ginger (to help settle the stomach) and 2 gels (some would say this isn't enough).  Thanks to my aero bottle, I managed to take regular sips of water and energy drink.     It was around 85 miles I started to feel like I really wanted the bike leg to be over.  I was imagining what rides at home I'd need to do to cover the remaining distance and how long it might take....I worked out I should make it in under 7 hours, which egged me on.  Finally, I was back in the city centre and handing my bike over to a young girl.  6h37, very happy with that.

T2 - I remember feeling very relieved at seeing my trainers.  Although I'm not particularly strong at running, it's the discipline I feel most comfortable with.  I stuffed my tri top with shotbloks, put on my visor and glasses and started the ironman shuffle.  I'd decided to take a packet of plain oatcakes with me but they wouldn't fit in my pockets.  As soon as I left transistion, my parents and Elin were there, shouting their heads off.  I handed the oatcakes over, had a little chat then headed off on the run.

The Run - The run was 4 laps and at the start of each lap you got a coloured band (hairbands, which I'm now using!).  My strategy was to run as much as I could, walk the aid stations and any inclines, of which there were around 3 short ones.  Out on the first lap and the support was amazing.  My parents and Elin moved to another point so I spotted them again.  I started to spot other Badtriers running.  Some had the coveted green band already which meant they were on their last lap.....being on my first lap, this depressed me somewhat but I knew I'd get there eventually.  I got to the first aid station and took on some water.  It was at this point I noticed I was feeling a bit sick.  I took a shotblok and plodded on.  The sicky feeling remained and I noticed salt deposits on my tri shorts.  It didn't feel like I was sweating but it didn't really occur to me that I'd be losing salt.  Duh.  I passed Andrea and told her I felt sick and she suggested taking some salt tabs.  Best advice of the day.  I took a salt tablet at the next aid station and started to feel better.  I don't think it particularly sped me up but I certainly felt better.  Nadia was on her last lap when she gave me a little pep talk which made me smile.  One by one, I collected the wristbands and I finally got the green one.  One lap left.  It was starting to get dark and drizzly and spectators were thinning out but I saw Dan who walked with me for a while.  I was slowly realising that it was likely I'd get in under 14 hours.  I developed a mantra "let's work really hard for this", simple but effective.  There was more walking in the last lap but I managed to run the 2 long straight sections towards the end of the loop.  I could eventually see and hear the finish.  I wanted to walk but my legs wouldn't let me and I picked up the pace a tiny bit.  Into the finishing shoot and I saw Dan and my parents (Elin had left by now to fly home!) and heard the commentator say my name amongst all the disco lights and bad European dance music.  Over the line, arms up and I could finally stop moving.  Medal around my neck....Aaah.  What a great feeling. 

Lead legs but all smiles

All the training had been worth it. 

"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!