Day: June 29, 2013

It was great to be on the bike – really felt great at this point, as I took my first few peddles, saw the support staff, and was off up Broad Haven front – I took on some liquid and overtook a couple of people along here I was flying, then the hill came.

The hill out of Broad Haven isn’t massive, but it was today – down a gear, keep it spinning, down a gear, down a gear – no more gears… But I was catching a couple in front which helps with your mental-ness, but I was also passed by a couple who just breezed past me. After a while we were out on the open road and I really got down to it, luckily the roads were being marshaled and it was great to not have to stop at junctions, the pace was quick(ish) and the up and down was going well. I overtook a couple along here, but also a few overtook me. In all it was quite forgetful, I rememeber being 8 miles in and at half an hour so was outside of a 1:30 at that point, but I kept things spinning and really felt quite good for most of the cycle.

The hill up to Herbranston was a killer, but after that there were hills but nothing too terrible. I found the supporters at Tiers Cross, parked up at Stodds Tires, they really gave me a lift, and I nearly took their heads off by throwing my used water bottle at them. Before long I was back at Haverfordwest and at the turning up past the race-course the cheerleaders where there again, brilliant!

The road back into Broad Haven is usually a 20+ mph run, but today the wind was at me, and I was tired anyway, so it was a real effort to keep 16-18 mph, but the clock was ticking and I wasn’t going to make 1:30 which I had hoped. Eventually I got to the hill back into Broad Haven and could relax a little – as I got to the bottom of the hill, the winner of the tri was just coming out at the *end* of his run – he looked like a greek god as I cycled passed, the Adonis and the troll as we headed down to the beach together.

This transition should have been really speedy, but I felt a little weird at this point, and did a little day dreaming, then I couldn’t find the way out of the transition area, but after a couple of minutes I was slowly jogging down towards the beach.

RUN:

The start of the course was on the beach, passed the supporters again here, they were doing an excellent job, but the run started hard. I was barely moving across the beach, but after 500 meters the going got really tough.

The route took us out towards Druidston on the coastal path, which was narrow, and rocky, and steep. It was totally mental. To finish a race running 3K upwards along an awful clifftop path is just completely nuts – I was exhausted – I could barely jog. AT one point the path was so steep there were steps, which I had to walk up (there were only 4 mind). After a while a couple of people had passed me, and I managed to pass one bloke, it was his first tri also, and as he fell into step behind me he started to chat. I couldn’t so drove on and away from the nutter.

First water stop came and went, I managed to throw the entire contents of the cup down my neck – and I actually mean down my neck to attempt to cool me down. We were on tarmac now and the run started to feel okay, I was passed by some fresh faced folk, who may, or may not have been in a team, and passed a couple myself – some of these were really suffering. After about a mile the road turned off towards H’west and the hills start again – I could not believe how hilly it was – there must have been 6k of up and 3 k of down – although that probably doesn’t work out – but there was a lot of up I can tell you. At the second water station I paused for a drink and one on the head and the breeze came up – which was nice.

Final 3k now, and I knew from the timings that I had around 25 mins to complete it. Easy I thought, well I got to the last 1k and had around 10 minutes to finish, I was quite tired at this point ;o) Final hill up was short, but a killer, then I was in Broad Haven and running down to the beach. You turn back on yourself at this point, which is quite soul destroying and you have to run back to the end slip way before you can run the final 500 meters or so on the beach – it seemed never ending. The finish post never got any bigger, or closer. Keeping an eye on the time, I felt I had 5 minutes to make it – I knew I could walk it in that time, but the seconds were flying passed. Then I saw Kate, and she skipped alongside me for the last 100 meters, really putting me to shame, but I got there 3:22 – chuffed to bits.

HONK – went the horn, oh shit went me.

Around 270 people in skin tight suits with yellow, blue and red hats splurted into the sea. I was slow, I was last, I was scared. This would be only the second time in the whole 22 weeks of swim training where I did not have a nose clip, I almost wanted to just stop there and then, but I waded into the sea to be kicked and harassed by a number of other slippery black tri-ers.

Swimming into the waves is not easy, and within 2 seconds I was doing breast-stroke, I somehow managed to splash my way to the first buoy, around 150 meters out, and got caught in the mash at the turn – this was unpleasant – I had to stop here and was basically treading water, then I set off, catching a glimpse of the second buoy, a lifetime away. My swimming style could be classed as moronic, after all the weeks of training I was swimming with my head out of the water (well, when it wasn’t in a wave), gasping for breath at every chance – I had water down my throat and up my nose and I was the closest I have every been to quitting anything – I just could not believe I could possibly make it. I looked behind and there only seemed to be a couple of people, so I made it my aim to keep up with the person in front, who out of the whole sea seemed to take delight in kicking my face.

I got to the second buoy, and it was mad panic again, it was quite odd how so many people seem to congregate around the buoy, so I was having none of it, and kicked off and for the first time stuck my head under water and actually swam. Well what a revelation, I was actually moving well, I was blowing out through my nose with a hell of a force, then breathing every second stroke, and it was working. Sooner than expected I was around the third buoy and was on the home straight, the swimming just clicked big blow out, two strokes, quick breath and everytime I was getting a lungful of air before the sea hit me – I have no idea how or why, because I was breathing into the waves, but it just worked – I was flying. Sighting was a slight problem on this run, as there were two buoys ahead, so after some zig-zagging I was at the last one, managed to get tangled with a bloke next to me, who I raced back to the shore – after a time he just vanished, and as I looked up I realised he had just stood up and I was swimming like a maniac in 2 feet of water – I was finished, I was out, I managed the swim – woohooo!!!!!!!

Now I found that I should have practiced getting my wet suit off, as I couldn’t undo the top – more panic, I was knackered now and everyone else was sprinting passed me, I could barely walk. As i ascended the beach I managed to rip the velcro off and pulled the zip down – I was half free. My now the crowds were thicker, and I saw my supporters all looking quite pleased, so I felt I had to do a little shuffle jog up the slipway.

Got into transition, and went to the wrong bike, then the right one and struggled with what energy I had left in my arms to get the wet suit off, T-shirt on, feet dry, glasses on, gloves on, socks on, shoes on helmet on, pick up bike, head out, get on bike, pedal. At this point I saw the big timing sign – 35 minutes, thirty five blumming minutes and I was out of the transition and cycling amazed I was!

So here it was. The day of the triathlon, 22 weeks of “training”, 180 quid on a pool membership, 150 quid on a wetsuit, 350 on new wheels, 70 on a tri-suit and 2 quid on a tub of vasaline – I was ready.

Up early doors after the best nights sleep at my mums ever. Had a big portion of chips, sausage, fishcake, gravy and curry the night before and no beers what-so-ever. Event was to start at 12:30 and I had to be there for a briefing at 12:00, so looked at 11:00 to get going down the Haven. After multiple ablutions, I was ready for the breakfast to fuel my day – so bacon sarnies all round. Only managed 1 and a half sandwiches and two cups of tea, then it was an hour to kill. So after a number of extra stops at the white throne, I was in the trisuit and checked and re-checked the instruments of my day of torture.

I took the bike for a quick spin after pumping the tires and decided not to take my cycle shorts – which was a good idea. I then stuck some oil in the car which wasn’t. After I put the oil in, I somehow managed to knock the oil cap off the engine and through the fan into the depths of the engine bay – aarrggghhhhh PANIC!

Heart sank, as the family came rushing out to look at my stupidity, luckily Sian, who is always brave in the face of danger stuck her hand into the bowels of the car and somehow managed to rescue it, just as I was about to disassemble the bike rack. I don’t know how she did it, and she damaged all of her arm, but amazingly the oil cap was rescued – panic over.

Got down Broad Haven around 11:15, and the car park was packed, after being directed into a very odd parking space we managed to get unloaded, Kate had the bike and proceeded to wheel it through the debris on the side of the car park, with me flinching every meter. Got past the toilet and thought I might have a go, but crouching in the crab position trying to wee out of a trisuit didn’t work for me here, so I gave up and went to rack.

Having never entered, or seen a triathlon before I wasn’t too sure what was to happen, but I found a space and was given instructions as to how to rack up, and I laid my stuff under the bike – I had taken a small box to put the stuff in, which as it happened was what one does in a triathlon. I put things straight and tried to stick some energy tablets to the handle bars and failed – so I just ate a couple.

Hanging around now, so after a while I tried the toilet again, and there was quite a queue for the throne room, so I struggled and pulled and squatted and managed to get some more liquid out.

Nearly time for the briefing, so I struggled into the wetsuit, convinced that mine was the tightest there – everyone else looked tanned, and muscular and fit and powerful, I looked squished and fat. I took a walk down to the sea front at this point and felt quite scared. The waves which were breaking were around a foot of so, but you could see there was a swell behind them as the boats setting up the buoys where really wobbly. I looked at the distance, and the waves and the distance and me and the waves and once more at the distance and felt like I was going to cry…

Got vasalined up and helped to pour my top half  into the wetsuit and went to listen to the briefing. Also listened to the radio announcer who was waxing lyrical about how hard the course was, and that it was quite choppy. Time for a practice swim – earplugs in – check, stupid (but warm) yellow hat on – check, gogs on – check, nose clip on – check, and I waddled down to the water.

Had a quick swim out through the waves to the first (actually the last) buoy and panicked, then swam back and though – this is easy. As I got out of the water I attempted to adjust my nose clip, but got vasaline on it, and my nose. So, second panic of the day I looked in desperation for the supporters so I could towel it off or something. I had a short time before the start, and the stress levels were rising!!

I tried and tried and tried to get the nose clip on, it just wouldn’t, my heart sank to my knees, and then the hooter went off – my clip was tucked into my goggle strap and my first triathlon was starting.