70.3 UK, Wimbleball – anyone fancy hill reps?
After picking up a slight hamstring injury about ten days before the race, a turbulent week or so of physio treatment, far too much contact with a foam roller, uncertainty as to whether I’d be fit to race and a few panicked phone calls to my triathlon guru Ellen and coach Fiona followed. Fortunately on the Thursday before the race it looked like I would be ok to start and hope that I remained as pain free as possible for long enough to cross the finish line.
As a bit of an explanation, I am coached by Fiona with Tri Training Harder and was at the race with TTH coaches, athletes and spectators (spectathletes – who provided, among other things, outstanding baked goods!!). So I was racing for both Belpark and TTH (I was somewhat uncolour coordinated wearing my green Belpark trisuit and red TTH nail varnish),
The Saturday (day before the race) saw a reasonably early start. After a bit of carb loading in the form of tasty energy drinks and bars, organising kit into separate bags in prep for the red, white and blue Ironman transition bags, and packing bikes into cars, we headed to Wimbleball lake to register, rack bikes and kit and hit the lake for a swim recce. Inevitably as 1600 or so athletes ventured in the same direction there were some pretty long queues to get into the car park. An ideal opportunity to run through a mental checklist of the kit I had with me – race belt, check, trainers, check, socks, check, arm warmers (I’ve learnt from my mistakes), check, bike, check, helmet, nope don’t need that – OMG I DO NEED THAT!!! AND I DON’T HAVE THAT – race induced stupidity moment and panic number one (of several).
Having arrived at the lake, registration complete, and the organised people who didn’t forget their helmets, having racked their bikes we jumped into the lake for a quick swim. The lake temperature was great (positively bath like compared to the Irish Sea) and helped to settle the nerves towards my favourite (not!!) aspect of triathlon. After lunch, a few more sports drinks and bars, some of us headed back to transition to rack bikes (and helmets!)…I should probably mention at this point that this was a planned trip back to transition for the others, they didn’t have the same helmet forgetfulness as me. So I pulled my bike out of my car, thoroughly relieved and content in the knowledge that I DEFINITELY had everything I needed this time. Went to put the front wheel back on the bike and…”where is the skewer endy thing and spring!!!?” (Technical term). It turns out that while putting the bike into the car, the “skewer endy thing and spring” had fallen off…race induced stupidity/panic moment number 2. Luckily Ironman cater for fools like me and there was a bike maintenance tent in the expo which provided said “skewer endy thing and spring”. So we finally made it back to the houses in the afternoon for some chilling out/panic about the day to come, oh and not forgetting more energy bars and sports drinks. I took the opportunity to run through my race and nutrition plan and stick on my race number tattoos (not gonna lie – this was one of the highlights!!) and then after a lot of pasta, to bed for an early night and hopefully to sleep before a very early start the next morning.
My alarm went off at 3:30 and woke me up in a very confused state as to where I was and why I was awake so early!? When the realisation suddenly dawned on me “you’re racing today!” And the nauseous feeling which then followed. Nevertheless, porridge was consumed, the remaining kit for the race grabbed (and checked this time) and off we headed. The forecast for the day was near enough perfect, a bit of a break from the previous day’s heat, but still sunny and calm. Race time!
So on the long walk down to the swim start (I would like to reiterate the “long” and “down” part, which in turn meant that to get back to transition from the swim exit meant a “long” and “up” run), the “fear of the unknown” anxiety seemed to have been replaced by an “ignorance is bliss” feeling of not really having any idea how much this was going to hurt. That combined with the knowledge that I had a solid winter of good training behind me, meant I was excited to get started. There were two swim waves of around 7/800 people in each and I was starting in wave 1. Knowing that swimming is not my strong point, my plan was to settle as quickly as possible and try to find a bit of space so I didn’t get trampled on by the other 799 people. As the starter gun/buzzer/shout of “go” went (I have no idea how they started the race – race induced lack of capacity number 3) there was the normal initial manicness and holding your own in the water, but I was relieved to find this only lasted a couple of minutes and I found myself in reasonably clear water, able to settle and get into a rhythm. It wasn’t long before I found someone’s feet (not randomly floating in the water – that wouldn’t have been pleasant) and decided to sit in and draft for a bit and enjoy the ride. After trying on a couple of occasions to swim past these “feet” I found that I wasn’t able to, so spent most of the rest of the swim behind them, comfortable in the knowledge that I was relaxed and would be in a good position for THAT run to transition and probably not going much slower, if at all, than if I was doing all the work myself. After turning the last buoy I found myself in an entirely unfamiliar mental place – I was actually enjoying swimming!!! And more so, was actually hoping that it would not end…this was after remembering TTH coach Chantal’s wise words: “the swim will be the least painful part of this race” – thanks Chantal.
But inevitably it had to end, and as I stripped off my hat and goggles and pulled my wetsuit down to my waist, I set my mind to the task of climbing this long, grassy hill to T1. 70.3 races are a bit different to the shorter races I had done before, as all your kit for each section gets put in separate bags for the separate transitions – in the case of T1, a blue bag. I entered the tent, grabbed my bag and left my wetsuit and what turned out to be sunglasses with only one lens (race induced stupidity moment number 4), with a very helpful volunteer. Onto the bike!
The bike leg started with a hill (this will prove to be a common statement during this report) and about a 20 min steady climb out onto the main course. During which time I forced myself out of my normal “hammering it” mindset, one I would have in shorter distances, and started to get a bit of control over my heart rate and take on some nutrition. As this was my first middle distance race, most of my thoughts through the race were about keeping myself in a controlled place and sticking to the plan and advice. This was very much a learning and gaining experience race for me. The course consisted of a lot of steep climbs and quick (I think my top speed was 67km/h), and in places quite technical descents and I soon realised the truth in Fiona’s advice of working up the hills and recovering down those descents which required more braking than pedalling…unfortunately after tackling the first technical decent where my brakes literally screamed all the way down (I definitely scared my fellow racers and the marshals with the amount of noise my bike was making as I screamed into the tight corner at the bottom), I was a little unsure as to how well my brakes were actually working and that definitely played on my mind during the descents through the whole bike section.
As the bike continued on, I settled into my pacing and nutrition plan and was careful to not push too hard. I saw our spectathletes at the top of one of the more gradual climbs (TTH coach Alan’s description – I would beg to differ on the use of the word “gradual”). That was mentally a great boost and they gave me a bit of an idea of where the other TTH guys were in front of me. This wasn’t from a competitive view point for me, just gave me a bit of focus on the bike, something to think about and aim for. The rest of the bike lap bought a couple of very steep climbs where you just had to knuckle down and push on up. I was comforted by the fact that everyone else looked to be in as much pain as I was and half way up one of these climbs I remembered Fiona’s words “the bike is all mental – when it gets tough – smile” (a memory that was to leave me on the run course). So that’s what I did.
On one of the steep descents, while passing another bike, I managed to go straight over a very well marked serious of pot holes (race induced stupidity number 5), when I heard a bang. Having punctured in my last race this was my immediate thought, but after having a quick check of the bike all looked ok and I was then relieved to hear “I tried to catch it” from a fellow racer, who informed me that the container with my spare tubes and co2 had fallen off and was sat on the side of the road…this was then verified when I passed it on the second lap. Would I stop to retrieve it? Not a chance!…thankfully I didn’t puncture later in the race.
As I’ve just alluded, the bike section was 2 laps. So having settled, my attention turned to how I was getting on in relation to my bike split aim. A tough one to call on such a hilly course, so as I crossed into lap 2 and realised I was a couple of minutes ahead of my target and feeling good, I felt happy and comfortable, but cautious that the second lap would probably be slower as I would start to get tired. I didn’t have much of an idea as to where I was in relation to my competitors and other people in my age group, but as I saw 2 girls in my age group pass me on the bike, I was slightly disappointed but had the words “stick to the plan” painted firmly in my head. There was still the run to try and catch them, but I needed to be up to it physically – “more nutrition, maintain the pace”.
Passing 60km I was still feeling good but not complacent, still a long way to go. But I felt comfortable enough to start working a bit harder and decided to push on a bit and just monitor how I was feeling. A plan that seemed to work and as I headed towards the dismount line I was feeling quite strong. Bike racked, “red for run” bag grabbed and running gear donned, I headed out for the, what proved to be, gruelling run course. I had a quick glance at my watch as I left T2 which said 4 hours bang on. I was ahead of my target time. A thought which helped me no end. No pressure. Relax. Keep it controlled. STICK TO THE PLAN!
The run was a very hard one to judge, I would say within each 7km lap there was no more than a kilometre of so of flat terrain, and even less of that was on Tarmac. It was constant ups and downs and the terrain ranged from gravel to grass to tarmac (mostly the former 2). So again, I stuck to HR. Tried my hardest to not let it go crazy going up and gave myself a bit of recovery coming down.
The run was 3 laps, which as you went through the first lap you realised was not a good thing. There are three main things I remember about the course – a very long and steep tarmaced hill (which I swear got longer with each lap) with a steep descent straight after (which I swear got shorter with each lap), a flat out and back section along a dam. I remember this because it’s where our spectathletes were and was the bit I enjoyed most. Both because it gave a bit of physical respite, but more because again, seeing them was a huge boost. The third part I remember was the last 1.5km of the lap which came after a turnaround and consisted of a slight up, slight down then a right turn onto a steep, grassy, up hill section (the same area as the “long up” from the swim exit).
ONE (just the one) good thing about the course was that the out and backs allowed you to see who was around you. A great boost for me was that there were 3 or 4 of the TTH guys near me and having them there was mentally very comforting and definitely pushed me on…especially after managing a high five with Adelle (a high5, high five – I had gels in both of my hands).
In the lead up to the race, Fiona had asked me to think about certain “what if” situations. At the time I hadn’t really appreciated how important this was, but at so many points in the race I remember thinking, “I’m so glad I thought about and discussed this before now”. One of these “what ifs” was “what if you get a stitch?” This was something that stumped me at the time and forced me to do a bit of research into how to tackle it while running. So as I got to the bottom of the steep descent and started to feel a stitch creep in, my instant thought was “I know how to deal with this – stop it before it starts! Ease the pace back slightly and control your breathing, follow the plan!” And it worked, within about a minute I’d managed to control it and felt comfortable enough to push on again. At some point on the first lap I passed both of the girls who I’d seen pass me on the bike, which again was a massive boost. Although, I still had no idea what this actually meant in relation to my overall place, especially after then seeing another girl go hurtling past me.
I can honestly say that for most of the run I felt good, even on the up hill sections. It hurt but it felt controlled and I knew the pain would be relieved relatively soon by a descent (although relatively soon can feel like a lifetime when you’re fighting up a steep hill). At every point on the run I was fully in the realm of not knowing how I would feel in the next 5 minutes, this was a position I had no experience of and initially I was careful to make sure I was taking on nutrition and not getting complacent. After about 40 mins, the time when I should have been taking another gel, I was beginning to struggle with the thought of consuming something so concentrated. My stomach felt like it was on a tightrope where a gel would force it to fall off into cramping mode. I knew I needed it but it took me the last hour of the run to gradually sip through. I did, however make sure I was taking on water and coke at alternate aid stations, it was too hot to risk not taking on fluids…but I think I gave up on this with about 5km to go (in hindsight, a bad decision).
At the bottom of one of the descents I found myself running next to a very chatty guy called Colin, who apparently is a runner with 2 children, who weren’t there on the day and this was his first triathlon…I know all this because we had a conversation between about kilometres 15 and 18. An indicator of how good I was feeling at this point. I remember saying to him “3 and a half kilometres to go, just gotta make it home”, his response “yeah we’re home and dry now”, and at that point I could not have agreed with him more, I was feeling great!….it is no exaggeration to say that 300m later, as we passed through 2 miles to go, my entire perspective on my life and my body flipped – I felt horrendous. My feet hurt, my hip flexors were screaming at me and my stomach was beginning to cramp up. Not helped by my knowledge of the last 1.5 km of this lap as I described earlier. I remember turning that corner onto the grassy steep up hill, the last 500m , and all I could think was “do not walk! If you walk it’s over, you’ll never start again”. My HR was through the roof and my pace was on the floor. But step by step I managed to get to the top and take the turn pointing to “finish” and a very welcome relief when I realised the finish shoot really wasn’t that long. It’s amazing how the noise from the crowd and seeing the finish line can make you forget the pain you’re in and thoroughly enjoy the last few metres.
As I crossed the line, received my finishers medal and been sprayed with very welcome water, I headed to the finishers tent, collected my finishers T-shirt and tried to eat something – turns out ginger cake was the only think I could stomach for a good couple of hours. The results were published and showed a great day for TTH, with 4 of us on the podium for our age groups and everyone who raced performing brilliantly! Personally, I couldn’t have been happier. I’d beaten my time aim by just over 16 minutes, come second in my age group and 17th overall female. I felt like I had raced the best I ever had and most importantly had loved every second of it. I learnt a huge amount and really felt like the work I’d put in during the rain and hail and cold and wind of the Dublin winter and “spring” 😉 had been completely worth it.
I have to say a massive thank you to Fiona whose coaching has been tough but great and pushed me to make sure I was physically where I needed to be for the race. But has also been a huge support when things haven’t gone entirely to plan during that time, keeping my confidence high and mentally putting me in a great place for the race. Also a massive thanks to the people around me who have listened to me panic about training and injuries and illness and given brilliant advice (notably Belparkers Ellen and Helen) and listened to me talk on endlessly about swim, bike and run 🙂 (sorry family and friends). You’re all great and I apologise in advance because that will definitely not be the last 70.3 I do! Roll on the rest of the season!!
Belpark Triathlon Club 