Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Work, sleep, train, repeat

Note: I "wrote" most of this while doing a 3700 m swim - I had A LOT of time to think!

Ironman. Anything is Possible®

That's what they say. And after watching my friends Lucy, AJ and Rebeca last year I actually believed it. Last year, given that I'd gone up a distance every year since I'd started triathlons, was probably supposed to be my Ironman year, but I'd decided Ironman wasn't for me. Then I saw my friends do it and for some reason I thought, well if they can do it so can I.


At 17 stone, 6'3 I'm not exactly what you would term "athletic"

Plus as much as I love to cycle I hate running and value my free time, especially the precious time I can snatch with my husband who works shifts so I hardly get to see let alone have actual quality interaction with.

I like lie ins. I like "duvet days". I particularly like that we have Sky Movies so I can watch a whole slew of films if I really want to (and the blasted remote works!). None of this is particularly marking me as Ironman material. But, after discussing it with triathlon friends, my husband and even work I decided to enter Ironman Copenhagen.

I still don't know why. Every now and then I remind myself that the first triathlon I ever entered I specifically chose a super sprint with a 2.5 k run "because 5k sounded too far". Now I've entered one that includes A BLOODY MARATHON!
Longest I've ever run is 22 km, the last part through a forest shouting to the trees 'Will this EVER end?!'

I'm going to pause here because I think  (hope!) some of you might be muttering at the screen 'But you don't look like that any more! '. To you I say this:

The story of how I got on my bike and lost a load of weight  (only to put some of it back on again) is one for another day. And yes I do know my saddle is low in this photo.

So I spend my weeks going to work and then going straight out to train in the evening. I come home tired, hungry and often a bit grumpy (hangry!). I am endlessly grateful to my husband for putting up with me and for making me dinner when he can. My weekends seem to involve epic cycling tours of the gorgeous Kent countryside after dragging myself out of bed. I come home in the afternoon, and after a less enjoyable run (read: shuffle) round the local area I finally get to have a wash and a sit down. By this time, it's usually around 4 pm. I am hungry but confused. Is it lunch time? Is it tea time? I have no idea.

So I work, train, sleep (and eat) on repeat. My friends have gone from wanting to go out for a beer and curry on a Friday night to wanting to go out for Parkrun and brunch (or ride and possible cake!) on a Saturday morning. My Friday nights seem to now involve going to the freezing cold docks for a swim... I spend a lot of time exhausted and without my friends I don't think I'd make it out of the door. So thank you Tritons, for getting me prepared for "that endurance thing" that my parents seem to think I'm doing.

On a more personal note, I am raising money for the Stroke Association after a relative had a stroke last year and has had difficulty communicating since. The Stroke Association push for greater awareness of stroke and its warning signs and campaign for better stroke care.

Monday, September 19, 2016

With champs like these, baby we were born to swim/bike/run

My last triathlon of the season was the Greenwich Tritons sprint club championship. This was at Leybourne, a lovely lake and a nice flat-ish course.
Given it was a sprint distance and I'd done two middle distance triathlons this year, I wasn't too nervous in the run up. Mostly I was exhausted having had not much sleep all week. I was fully expecting to come fifth out of the five Triton girls entered and looking forward to a nice short race just for a change. The nerves did eventually kick in on Friday night just as I was unsuccessfully trying to catch up with my lack of sleep!
The day dawned grey, windy and dreary, by which time we were on our way to the lake. I registered and began to rack up, at which point I realized I had left my aero bottle at home. I know at this stage I really should have learnt to drink from a bottle cage but for me this was going to mean a very thirsty bike ride!
Some of the Tritons before the race - I managed to sneak in the back!

The swim: "Where's my lightning bolt Scott, no corkscrew turns either"

I named this because Scott the swim coach had been testing our sighting using letters and images (including lightning) on a piece of paper. He'd also been teaching us different ways of turning round a buoy. The swim was a complete mosh pit, there were people kicking and punching everywhere, despite me putting myself near the back. Someone tried to swim over me so I apologise but I might have kicked them!
I got out the swim after 18 minutes, slower than my previous times. My transition was terrible due to my wetsuit not coming off quickly and I faffed a bit too...

Bike: It's not how it used to be (in a good way)

Once I got on the bike I remembered how I'd brought it down to Leybourne about the second time I'd ridden it and wobbled round the cycle course in a "make or break" test. I've spent so much time on my bike since then I am much more confident and much better balanced (although not so much that I can get my water bottle!). I essentially tried to push the bike as hard as I could as I knew my run leg was going to be poor. Number 90 and I were chasing each other all the way which gave me a great marker to follow. I spotted Lizzie W at the side of the road and hoped she didn't have a puncture after our discussion about whether we would bother to change a puncture earlier! Thankfully she just had a dropped chain so no having to faff with changing tyres...
Number 90 eventually got ahead of me and I miraculously didn't have to stop at any of the roundabouts and I finally got back into transition, only to see one of the other Tritons, James, finishing their race already!

Run: Doing it for the fun of it -What else would we be doing on a dreary Saturday morning?

My transition this time was fast and I actually came out onto the run before number 90 and a couple of others (no idea what they were doing). They of course came past me in no short order soon afterwards while I was struggling with jelly legs (that'll teach me not to do any brick sessions - or in fact any running - recently). My run was the slowest I've done for a long while there, but not too bad relative to my recent 5k times, just seem to have got really slow, something to work on over the winter I guess. I went past this lady who had two dogs, one of was "hopping" or perhaps bounding with its two front feet - very odd! I then ran past the Dartford Whiteoak tri lady who had told us earlier in transition she loved triathlon - so much so she had done a marathon during the week, was off to do another marathon that afternoon, and was due to line up for Thorpe Park triathlon the next day! I absolutely empathised with her and told her she was doing really well as I ran past.
On my run back towards transition on my first lap I saw Coach W who appeared to be bowing to me!
The second lap was almost as eventful. Someone came past me - unusual for the second lap, shouting "Don't worry I'm a lap behind you!". The lady with the hopping dog's other dog managed to stand right in front of me so I had to do some quick weaving! But finally I was on the home run, Coach W telling me to push it all the way to get a good time and it was all over. Last triathlon of the season done and it wasn't even 11 in the morning!
It wasn't fast and I'm sure it wasn't pretty, but I was fourth out of the female Tritons (one pulled out but hey). I have realized that I do this purely because I enjoy it and I really love my triathlon club.
 Anything is possible, right?

Sunday, August 14, 2016

Midnightman - a bit of a surprise

This year's Tritons club champs for the standard distance were Bewl and for the middle distance Midnightman. I had a bit of dilemma, because I managed to get a place in Ride London, so could I do Ride London, Bewl and Midnightman on consecutive weekends? After a bit of humming and harring and remembering how much hard work Bewl was the weekend after Ride London and how much I dislike Bewl (a lot!) I decided not to enter Bewl, but put myself into Midnightman.

In the two weeks running up to the event, I realised I really hadn't been doing much running and definitely nothing of distance. I decided to take myself off for a long run on the Sunday before, only to find myself struggling up Shooters Hill, then when I'd finally made it to the top to come crashing down on the way back down the hill. Luckily I wasn't too hurt, mostly bruised both to my skin/muscles and my ego. The week running up to Midnightman I thought, I really need another weekend... but I didn't have one.

The day of the race was very odd. I'm now so used to having to get up at the crack of dawn to get to a race that sleeping in (or attempting to) and having a relatively relaxed morning was very different. We got there relatively early, around 3:30 and I racked up. There were a couple of ladies who had done this race before and were chatting and being very friendly. I discovered this is a very friendly race - everyone is happy to talk to you and later on cheering you through the later stages was just lovely! I had a bit of time before the start of the race, so we sat down. We rapidly discovered there were some particularly vicious mozzies/gnats that particularly love biting - I think I ended up with several bites in minutes!

It was nice to see the other Tritons - AJ, Sophie and Claire were joining me in the middle distance, and I had much joy telling Francois that he was the only Triton man in the middle distance champs, so all he had to do was finish to win!  Eventually we had our race briefing and finally we got into the water, by which stage the cool water was a nice refreshing temperature after overheating slightly in the sunshine!
The swim was a bit of a disaster for me - my goggles kept ever so slightly leaking and I started to panic that I would lose my contact lenses. I had to stop to let the water out, which delayed me. I started to leave it until I got to a buoy but I think I ended up having to stop three or four times, delaying my swim quite badly! The water was nice and the buoys easy to spot so the swim went OK apart from that. Trying to get back in was interesting - I wasn't entirely sure I was going the right way but finally I got in and I could take my blasted goggles off and run into transition. My wetsuit (which due to my nails is starting to look like I've been attacked by a wild animal) was really resisting being taken off but finally I got myself ready and out onto the bike course.

Oh, that bike course. It was essentially an H shape with some really nasty dead turns at the end of each one. As you span down Bob Dunn Way the wind just blew against you making me feel like I was cycling through custard. On the way back it was much better as you had the wind behind. The dead turns were a real trial. I managed to mess several up by not getting round them properly and having to clip out to get round! The sun started to go down and I realised I was going to have to turn my lights on soon - I could reach my light on the front but not on the back. The sun sank deeper and deeper giving us a beautiful sunset and I got to lap five out of ten just as it set - so I decided to stop at the aid station, grab some food and fill up my bottle, and switch on my light at the back. By lap six Thea and Lizzie turned up and were a much needed boost - so much energy and enthusiasm! There was also a lady with pink LED lights and the two ladies that I'd spoken to earlier in the transition that kept me going. The last three laps I also went past a little boy that kept holding his hand out for a high five, which I was actually able to give him - my balance on the bike is a lot better than it used to be! I found out from my Strava that I'd beaten my 90 k time by round about half an hour, mostly because it was so flat a course (which of course meant you ended up pedalling all the time!). I kept checking my watch to see how much further I had left to go, and was so glad when it was my last lap, the last time I had to attempt those dead turns (which I managed!), and I could come into transition.

And out onto the run. Running will never be my best discipline, or my easiest. But there is always a small satisfaction of knowing that you've done two thirds of the race and now all ahead of you is 21 km of (mostly) tarmac. The run course was pretty busy to start with, there were many of the speedier half distancers ahead of me and it was nice that so many of my Triton colleagues took the time to cheer me on as they streaked past. AJ came past me quite soon after I started and asked me how I was feeling. I said, "Ask me again in an hour". People told me I was looking strong but I knew I was really slow. But I kept running. They also kept shouting out my name. I was really confused as to how so many people could know my name until I remembered that it's printed on the back of my trisuit! I hadn't brought my race belt with me that holds two small water bottles, and by the end of my first lap I was really starting to feel the effects of dehydration, as well as a desperate need to find a ladies. By the second lap I was absolutely dry to the bone, but I'd noticed a couple of the other runners running with bottles, so the next time I got to the aid station I asked for a bottle of energy drink. That energy drink saved my run, absolutely no question.  I finished the whole bottle going round the next 5 k. There were many things that I went past on my way around, including a Beefeater (at the start of the run I was desperate for a steak), a taxi cab advertising a bingo club all the way the other side of town in Cricklewood (!), a big party with a BBQ and chalk on the pavement cheering random people on (including one that said "Good job random stranger". On my final lap it got a lot quieter and started to feel a lot more like the other half ironmen that I have been to - apart from instead of some quiet country lane, I was running round a housing estate in the middle of the night in Dartford! I can't tell you how much of relief it was to come round the final corner, after the BBQ party had started to break up, and see the red lights of the bikes winking at me from transition. I speeded up for the last few yards and finally I was finished! I'd completely smashed my previous time and finished in 7 hours and 18 minutes, completely exhausted, worn out and a little spaced out too! I really felt for the full distance entrants who were still cycling around when I had finished and could go home.

Monday, May 16, 2016

Swashbuckler - never say never again

In September last year I did my first ever half ironman/middle distance event in the New Forest. I swore I'd never do another one again. Then, a month or so later, Rhiannon announced that she was going to enter the Swashbuckler middle distance. She was trying to convince the rest of us intermediate riders that we should enter. I wasn't convinced but at some point I must have told Thea that I wouldn't enter unless she entered as well, thinking that she would never enter. Then she surprised me one day and told me she'd entered. Damn it, I thought. So of course I then had to sign up. We were joined by Tamara, Emma D, Harriet, the Lizzies and Lindsay.

The training was inconsistent, and just seemed to involve a lot of activity interspersed with exhaustion, the horrible cough/cold combo and an inability to run further than 14 km and not much faster than around 7 minutes per km. I was tired, slow, aching and was very nervous running up to the event. Everyone kept telling me that I'd done it before, I should be OK, but I wasn't sure whether it made it better, or worse!

The day arrived, one of those beautiful English mornings that start with mist and promise to be nice later. We were all nervous, and there were several hugs exchanged. Six of us were in the second swim, and that was the last I saw of most of them for the rest of the day...

The swim was a lot saltier than I expected. I didn't really think about the fact that it would be high tide, thus the river would be full of sea water. It was extremely buoyant as well, which isn't something I've experenced a lot. It wasn't as much of a moshpit as I'm used to with open water races, which was nice, and I managed to get into a rhythm, even if there was this guy who seemed determined to backstroke across me (it seems backstroke is now allowed). It did start to feel like hard work and the water tasted HORRIBLE (I really thought I'd be sick!) but my overriding issue was the swim cap. Several times it felt like it was about to slip off (the issue is I have a large head and normal caps don't really fit), so I had to stop and tread water at least twice to try and fix it - very annoying! By the time it came to the end of the swim, it was pretty much fallen off... I was happy to be out by 41 minutes, but it seemed that everyone else had made it out. I faffed far too much in transition trying to sort myself out and getting ready for the bike.

On the bike the views were glorious. It occured to me that I should have a race in the New Forest every year, it's such a beautiful area. The ride was quite flat and I enjoyed the majority of it. The only issues I had were that I'd lost the straw to my magic handlebar bottle, so I'd had to improvise with a couple of ordinary straws, which kept floating to the top of my water bottle, not great. I had to keep pushing the straw back into the bottle so that I could have a drink...
There are moments when you cycle that you end up in a dark place, which is full of pain and profanity. This was mostly directed towards my saddle, which felt after a while that I was sat on a metal bar... perhaps it's time to get a new saddle. The marshalls were absolutely brilliant, especially the one near where I'd stayed the night before, who was so full of enthusiasm it really helped keep me going. I was desperate to stop for a rest, but I decided to get to the half way point before stopping. When I got to 45 km, I was in the middle of a village, so of course I didn't want to stop. In the end I didn't stop and kept going through the pain and the annoyance of having to sort out my straw throughout the whole ride. I kept thinking of my difficult climb in Malaga where I just kept going through the pain and the desire to stop. It was so good to finally come round towards Beaulieu for the final time and then into Buckler's Hard. It took me 3 hours and 42 minutes, a PB for me for the bike.

On to the run, and the sun had finally come out, of course. There were loads of people doing their second lap as I started off, after grabbing some water and "energy drink" from the aid station. The energy drink they gave us was a bizarre mixture that tasted weird but did help a little on my run. I essentially ended up running between aid stations and stopping at each one for a bit of a pep talk. Again the marshalls were just lovely and brilliant. I had both Harriet and Lizzie run past me cheering me on, and near the end of the first lap, many people saying "not far to the end". I had to keep telling them that I still had another lap to go, sadly! I had to struggle back up the hill in Buckler's Hard past the finish line and carry on to the aid station at the top. That was tough. I had a nice chat with the aid station marshalls, said "Let's do this" and started on my second lap. I knew this was going to be lonely, and it was. It felt like there was nobody else on the road left, they'd all finished already. I spent a lot of time trying to convince myself that I could do this, but at around 14 k I met a dark place again and had to stop to walk for a bit. It didn't help that my hips were absolutely killing me by this stage (what I used to call a "pain party"). I decided that I would walk for a minute and then carry on running. At around this stage a guy with a yellow shirt came past me, and I finally realised it wasn't just me on my own on the second lap. I struggled on, convincing myself that I could do it and slowly getting past the mile markers and on to the next aid station. For some time I followed a guy with a red cap. Earlier on, the faster swimmers were wearing red swim caps and in my slightly beleaguered state I was convinced this guy was still wearing his red swim cap! He was slowing down so I actually ended up going past him and finally found out that he was wearing a red baseball cap as opposed to a swim cap! I made it, somehow, to the last aid station. I was so glad I was almost in tears they were still there, and worried I was going to get cut off. They tried to encourage me that the finish was still there at the end and I was nearly there. The final bit of the run goes through the forest and the trail goes in a straight line. I didn't realise how long this path was from the first trip around and ended up shouting (when nobody was around) "Will this path EVER end?!?" I was having real trouble breathing and had to try and calm myself down so I didn't end up panic breathing. After quite a lot more plodding eventually the masts of the boats at the harbour finally came into view. I was so glad to see these! And so I made it through the marina and the people clapping, actually running up the hill to the finish... I was through to the end!
I couldn't quite believe I'd finished it... again! All that pain and endless training for seven hours and 50 minutes of effort.

Afterwards, I couldn't help but feel a bit low. I don't normally like to talk about this, but I started wondering why I am a triathlete. Why I continue to put myself through these things when I am clearly absolute rubbish at it (3 hour half marathon... some people can finish a whole marathon in that time). Whether I should just give it up as a bad job. Wondering whether I deserve to call myself a Triton, and why nobody has taken me to one side and asked me to leave (like they did at a badminton club I was once a member of). I just thought about the fact that half the Tritons I was with had left by the time I'd finished, and this made me feel unworthy. However, then I got a couple of messages who said that they were so proud of me it helped me feel a bit more proud of what I'd achieved - I'm now a double half ironman!

Now, when's the next one?

Thursday, November 19, 2015

Pedalling the boards

Out of the three disciplines, cycling is my favourite – I just love to get out on my bike and escape the city to get into the countryside. My only issue is that I suffer from a lack of balance or perhaps confidence in my balance, so I can’t really signal very well or reach for food during a long ride. I don’t ever ride on the drops and my hands are always placed firmly over the brakes!
The only time I’ve ever ridden a fixed wheel was somewhere in Mexico which I didn’t really enjoy and was quite glad to get off the bike at the end. This was an extremely short trip up to the top of the river on a mountain bike with no brakes, only the fixed wheel to stop you.
So the prospect of getting onto a fixed bike with no brake, and having to ride on the drops was extremely daunting. It was only the thought of getting to cycle in the Lee Valley Velodrome (where Olympians have raced!), Thea signing up and several people telling me that if they could do it, so could I that made me change my mind. I guessed I could give it a go and see how I got on.
Having to get up at 5:30 on Sunday morning wasn’t brilliant, as we were due to do another event that morning – my first duathlon. So Sunday was a day of firsts, a duathlon (which I didn’t really enjoy, and I don’t think I’ll be taking up any time soon!) and then the track session in the evening.
Things didn’t start particularly well. I’d been watching a movie at home and thought I still had time to make some lunch for the next day before I left my house. I didn’t, and ended up leaving home a little later than I should have. By the time I got to the station I was starting to panic a little and decided to take the tube where I had to change as opposed to the direct tube, which wasn’t going to arrive for another 10 minutes. I had to change at Canning Town and reckoned that if I caught the Jubilee line I would be faster getting to Stratford. Unfortunately, at Canning Town, I ran down to get the Jubilee train and all I saw was “St” at the front. Jubilee trains going the other (wrong) way go to Stanmore, and I ended up at Canary Wharf before I realised my mistake. Finally I got on the right train and ended up in Stratford, with about 10 minutes to go and about a 15 minute walk to the Velodrome (why is it soo far away from the station?!?). This ended up being a run/fast walk through the dark and gloom (it had been foggy all day) which was a bit scary on my own. I made it, a couple of minutes late, but the lady still let me through. Everyone was still getting ready and getting their bikes from the hire area so it was OK in the end. The guy I hired the bike from even said my shoes were OK, even if I might need to change my thoroughly worn cleats sometime soon! 
I viewed my fixie bike with apprehension while Darren took us through the format of the evening and a few safety notes – we were going to start off with a couple of loops around the track, getting ourselves used to the bikes. We had to alert him if our cleats came out of the pedals at any point – spinning pedals and loose feet not being a good combination! We watched the other riders with a mixture of awe and disbelief – apparently this velodrome has the (if not one of the) steepest banking in the world!
We started off all in line hanging grimly onto the rail that separated the riding area from the central area. Darren was trying to explain to us how to start – get your arm as far ahead of you as possible and pull hard to “launch” yourself out onto the track. I was really unsure about this, and as it came to me I almost got off the bike and walked off without even trying it. But Darren said “come on, miss” and essentially pulled me off the wall and got my momentum going. I spent a couple of laps cycling around the inner loop, trying to get used to the bike, and going nowhere near anything that looked like banking or wood! By the time to come in, I was a bit worried about coming to a halt, but I found stopping a lot easier than starting all the way through, just grabbed the side at a slow pace and it was fine. My heart was going 60 to the dozen and I still really wasn’t sure.
We watched the more advanced riders again, and just as they were ramping up two riders fell on the steeper part of the slope. Everyone on the track was instructed to ride above the blue line until the fallers had been scooped up. There had been a bit of slowing down, and of course when you’re on a fixie you can’t slow down quickly, so you fall off. Luckily both riders were fine and got up and started off again.
We were off sooner than we might have liked, and this time it was time to brave the wood. Darren once again got me moving away from the wall and I took little bites off the flat to move onto the wood and then back onto the safety of the flat, only going onto the wood where it was at its “flattest”. I started to enjoy myself a little more and when Darren told us to go past him on the wood I made the effort to try. I made it past him the first time, when he was just a little off the flat, and got straight back onto the flat blue. The second time around, he was a bit higher up and I just completely missed him. The third time around, he was almost at the top and I just decided to go for it and go past him. What I didn’t realise was he’d positioned himself at a point where I would have to go right round the top of the steepest banking before I could come back down to the flat! I shot past him, and he was shouting at me to keep pedalling round… Suddenly I was on the steepest part of the banking right at the top! I kept pedalling as he told me and I finally made it round to the flatter bit, whereupon I immediately got off the wood and onto the flat. My heart was absolutely off the scale! I think that was the round where I ended up doing the “ride of shame” where if you don’t manage to slow down enough you have to do another loop before you stop. That was the only ride of shame for me.
Thea and I in the velodrome!
 By the third go, I was well and truly on the wood, although Darren was still helping me get started. I did get stuck behind one rider at one point and had to pull off onto the flat to stop myself from riding into the back of them! We were supposed to be doing an exercise where the front person goes higher and the rest of us ride underneath, but as I got closer to the front I wussed out and escaped back onto the flat to slow down again… On the fourth go, I managed to stay on the wood for the majority of the session, even getting enough bravery up to overtake someone (on the flatter bit of the wood, not the steep slope!) and tried my best to keep up with the rest of the line. Lots of riders went past me going “Stay!” – instructing me that they were coming past and not to weave, but it kind of made me feel like some kind of dog! I started to feel the wind coming at me and really got into riding round the track, trying to go faster and then, when we had to slow down, trying to slow my pedalling so that I could come to a smooth stop at the end. I never did manage to keep up with the faster riders but maybe next time when I haven’t been cycling in the morning!

I came off the track for the last time exhilarated and wanting more. I think I went home and signed up for the next session straight away! I never thought I would enjoy it that much and actually not be that bad at it either, although I know I have to at least try to start off myself next time. I spent the next day almost walking on a bed of air (even though it WAS Monday) and as I went past the bike shop I even stopped to look in the window hoping to see a track bike… 

Tuesday, September 29, 2015

New Forest Middle Distance - the top of the triangle

A few facts before I start:
- 5 years ago I was technically obese
- 4 years ago I started the "Couch to 5k challenge" to relearn how to run further than a few metres
- 3 years ago I did my first ever triathlon, the London Triathlon, where I did the Super Sprint that involved a 2.5 km run "because 5k was too far". It took me an hour.
- 2 years ago, after taking a few months off to get married, I did my first two Sprint distance races - Bewl was my first, and as anyone who's done Bewl will know, quite a challenging course. It took me two hours (Leybourne, later on in the year, and much less challenging, took around 1 hour 40).
- Last year I decided to up the distance to standard/Olympic. I decided I needed the help from a coach so I was coached for a couple of months before completing my first (Dartford, a great course) and second (London) standard distances, both within 3 hours.

So late last year I caved to what I describe as "triathlon peer pressure" and entered my first middle distance triathlon in New Forest. Oh, I thought, I've got a year to train, and everyone keeps telling me it's not that much more training than doing a standard. I even did a half marathon in preparation as I was worried I wouldn't be able to run that far.

My preparation went OK I guess - I tried to follow a plan of sorts, but half the time I kept missing running training or swimming due to being exhausted or simply just busy. I could have done more, but I didn't. The date got closer and closer and I did consider pulling out, but I'm just one of those people where once I've committed to something, I go ahead with it. I did manage a couple of 90k bike rides and rack up over 200k of cycling over a week a few times, but I never managed a complete continuous ride and certainly not one with a run straight after it.

The day arrived, freezing cold and dark. I'd kind of forgotten that it might be dark at 5 am as we wound our way from the B&B to Sandy Balls (a silly name for a lodge/campsite!) through the narrow country lanes. One of these lanes we encountered a very furry mammal running away from us. Stu was trying to encourage me to go past it as it had got out our way but I realised it was a badger! I'd never seen a real live badger ever so I watched it scamper away. I hoped that was a good omen for the rest of the day. We also saw a deer as well. I completely missed the turning for the car park and then managed to get myself stuck in very deep grass trying to park (thanks Stu for pushing me out!). As we were driving along my car put up a red warning snowflake on the dashboard - telling me it was 0 degrees outside. Pretty cold!

I dumped my running bag in transition 2 (two separate transitions), we got on the bus and made our way to the lake. The lake I had been to the day before, first to have a swim first thing in the morning to check it out, and second to rack my bike. I'd thought it would get dew over it during the night so I'd just racked the bike up and not left anything else, which was a good thing since there was loads of dew everywhere. I now knew why a couple of the competitors had racked their bikes up covered in plastic! The organisers decided that they would have a mass start so that nobody was waiting around in the cold to start. This was good because we didn't have to wait, but bad because there were over 200 people all waiting to be started off on the race! I got myself into a real tizz before the start and there was a tear or so and I was so glad for Stuart giving me some much needed support.

I'm really not a fan of mass starts, especially when there are people trying to kick you from all sides. The water actually felt warmer than outside, but it was still pretty cold for the first lap. I spent my first lap attempting not to get kicked or hit in the washing machine that was the mass start. It was cold but I tried to concentrate on getting to the next buoy, which never seemed to get any closer! I have a tendency for my mind to wander when I'm swimming and I started to think about writing this blog as well as going through the things I'd used up to get here: my wetsuit, one swimming cap, one pair of goggles, trainers, socks, hundreds of energy gels, Shot Bloks, Trek bars, peanut bars, at least a couple of swimming costumes, trisuit bottoms, cycling shoes, my sanity... The list goes on. I also thought of Paul, the poor bloke who lost his life at Leybourne, and although it might sound a bit odd I felt he wouldn't want me to give up and stop swimming.

Eventually I rounded the last corner and the last buoy finally came into view and I struck out to the shore. Out into the still-freezing morning and on to transition, trying with freezing hands to get my wetsuit on, my compression guards (aka leg warmers) and socks on over wet feet and my cycling top on. I got out of transition and I was onto the second leg. The cycling leg involved two and two thirds of a loop round the New Forest, navigating a long grinding hill to start with, then a long section that just went on forever, followed by another couple of straightish sections before we got to a mainish road which got us into Godshill and past Sandy Balls, the highlight of the loop as that's where the majority of the supporters were. After that was a bit of a nasty fiddly technical section involving some blind corners and lots of turnings. I managed to power through the first loop but after that it just ended up being a battle against the agony in my legs and hips. The third loop also brought a super lovely headwind which felt like I was going nowhere fast. I had to stop after the second loop to fill up with water which gave me a couple of minutes of respite from the agony. There were almost tears because of the pain. I was watching the clock all the time. My watch kept auto-pausing annoyingly through most of the ride, so I was hoping it wasn't too far behind my time. Part of me half hoped I didn't make the cut off time so I didn't have to do the run, the other part of me wanted to finish what I'd started. It was about the first time I'd been on my bike and actually able to feed myself without stopping, a real accomplishment for someone who doesn't have any balance! I'd learnt that if I break everything up into bits then I can just grab something from the 'bento box' and shove it into my mouth. I had a real mixture of Shot Bloks, cashew nuts and a Trek bar all broken up. I'd get salty Bloks but with the amount I was sweating it didn't matter.
By the last lap I was following a guy with Hope for Heroes kit on. He was suffering - I think more than I was - and had cramp. I mentioned to him when I passed we were getting close to the cut off point and he seemed to think he had lots of time left. I could see from my watch that we had about 10 km and half an hour to go - which is approximately the amount of time it takes for me to do 10 km when I'm commuting to work! I finally turned the last corner and made it back into Godshill.I was so glad to get off my bike but I couldn't run into T2. The marshal told me to take my time but I knew I didn't have much before the cut off. I zipped through T2, almost forgetting to take off my bike top in the process, grabbed some water and finally found a place to have a comfort break - I'd been completely unable to go for four hours! The BTF marshal told me I'd just made the cut off point (I reckon by a minute!) so off to the run I plodded. As I started the run a lady came past me who said "Can you believe we now have to do a half marathon?" I couldn't really but I had to try. I'd taken a small water belt with me that I struggled with for the first 5k or so until I got it and my number belt to agree and stop jostling round my waist. There were also the hills, Oh those hills! My poor legs were tired by this stage and I just struggled, so I walked uphill. One of the people coming the other way encouraged me to swing my arms and powerwalk it which did help. I tried my best to run on the flat bits and downhill, even if it wasn't much faster. I knew by this stage I must be last, even when I said this to one of the supporters who said there were masses of people behind me. At the turnaround point I knew this to be a lie; there was no one behind me. Figuratively speaking it was true due to the number of people who dropped out after the swim/bike, but in reality it just felt like a big fat lie. Ah well, I thought, someone has to come last. I was spurred on by the thought of the next aid station and as much water as they could offer me, as well as the fantastic marshals offering encouragement. By this stage it had gone from absolutely freezing to surprisingly hot and blindingly sunny. I was very glad for my little bottles of water and the aid stations, as I get very thirsty! I was expecting something exciting at the turnaround point, but instead it was just a table for the aid station and a cone in the middle of the road to mark where to turn! I caught up with the lady who'd overtaken me earlier, she was suffering with nausea. The medics also wanted to check I was ok, the only issue I had was exhaustion! I was so glad to be heading back. Even though there weren't runners coming in the other direction, we were still cheered on every now and then by other walkers and the marshals on the way. I did eventually pass two other runners and the girl in the blue top and I exchanged places several times, because she was a faster runner but kept stopping to walk. By the time I crested the last hill I was so glad to see the road again. We'd been running on gravel tracks most of the way, which didn't help. Half way down I spotted my husband who'd come to see where I was after getting worried about me. The strap to his folding chair had broken so he was having to lug it around under his arm. It was still another mile to the end so he then ended up clomping after me in a very distracting way as I was trying hard to finish this race! Trying to run with someone thumping right behind you, especially when once upon a time you had your handbag snatched by someone running up behind you, is a little freaky!
I was so glad to get into Godshill and finally Sandy Balls hoved into view for the final time. There was the end, the finish, and after nearly 8 hours of exercise, sweat and pain, I crossed the finish.
I did it. I can't quite believe it. And no, I'm not doing a full on ironman next year. I've decided to focus on the standard/sprint distances and see if I can get my 10k time to below an hour.

Monday, August 03, 2015

Ride 100 - it's behind you

Well after last year when I couldn't enter the Tritons team places due to not entering the original ballot, I was hopeful of a Ride 100 spot this year. I didn't get a spot in the ballot this year so I began organising the Tritons team. After some list building, endless patience waiting for confirmation and a bit of last minute stress, we were in!
So began the 'epic ride' training. For some reason I seemed to be the only 'intermediate' rider who actually knew any routes so those who were faster than me had to wait for me to give directions. This plus my inability to signal ended up in some interesting rides! We conquered Cudham, Toys, Ide and Star a few times!
Thea and I agreed that we would ride together, as we have a similar pace. So the morning arrived, a little chilly but sunny, and I met Thea in Greenwich after only managing three quarters of my porridge. We seemed to take a bit of a magical mystery tour to the start through the Blackwall tunnel and up and over a few East London pavements! We met up with Bern and Elaine in the holding pen and waited for the off. After an hour or so of shuffling round the Olympic Park it was finally our time to go to "We will rock you".
We wound our way through east London through what would normally be busy main roads and into town. The first few miles seemed to go really quickly, crossing the bridge three times before we were released into Richmond Park, my first experience of cycling there. As we went past Kingston we saw cyclists coming the other way on their way back. Some looked really tired! Further on we saw Thea's parents who'd made signs saying our names. I'd never had a sign made for me before so felt a bit emotional!
We made a pit stop in Pyrford. I overheard everyone saying the hills were next so we steeled ourselves. We shouldn't have worried. The only big problem was the number of people - on Leith Hill this became a real issue as someone just stopped in front of me, almost giving me a heart attack, and then the only place to cycle was a very narrow path on the right hand side, with some bloke behind me telling me to "keep pedalling!" I was trying to get through the crowd without any accidents! Box Hill was almost as bad with people everywhere and I think someone shouted "Slow down!" But there's only one speed I can pedal at, someone else encouraged me to "go for the gap"... I'd like to do those hills again when maybe the world and its wife aren't trying to do them at the same time. I did come a cropper myself one time further along when I didn't change down in time and got stuck in the wrong gear! I made a couple of drink errors along the way by topping my energy drink up first with tropical flavour and then with mojhito flavour - I really wanted something savoury by the end! We started to flag and everything hurt by about 80 miles but seeing the crowds on our way back in to town lifted our spirits. Going through Kingston again lifted our spirits and we made it up the hill back into Wimbledon. Then we knew it was flat back to the finish. The only problem with flat is there's no respite from pedalling and the last few miles just seemed to drag on and on with no end in sight! Finally we turned the corner into the Mall. That was completely awesome as everyone was banging on the boards cheering us in. The finish came and we'd done it! I couldn't quite believe it!