The Swim
….it took us about 10 mins to get down onto the beach,I was so looking forward to getting in the sea so I could wee, I was looking around for the support, but spotted no one, and at the last minute I pulled my goggs down and stepped into that chilly sea for the 2.4 mile swim.
The terror I felt in those first few minutes from when my feet first touched the cold water is indescribable. You are along side another 50 people, all seemingly trying their hardest to drown you, I couldn’t see the first marker only 20 meters away, I couldn’t put my head under water, and I couldn’t make a single stroke. I tried breaststroke, I tried to put my head underwater, I had sea water already in my goggles, I was knackered, I honestly could not believe for a second that I could possibly do this for over an hour and half and at this point my feet could still touch the bottom!
I forced my way to the first buoy, and into a slight amount of free space – my swimming was head above water, breathing either side, and not really making much headway, but then a real bit of space, and bugger me, I started to actually swim – it was the most fantastic experience – then some twat smacked me in the mouth..
From here on in the swimming was fab, the people were not, where ever you swam, there was someone else there, either with their feet, or their body, or hands crawling at your feet, open water is bad enough but at the buoys its hideous. I did notice that I was overtaking people, first time that has happened – everyone in the pool overtook me, but I was motoring along. Stoke, breath, spit out sea water, stoke, breath, pass someone, stoke, breath, bump into someone, stroke, breath, arrgghh somethings touching my feet…
Before long we were nearing the second buoy and the last bit before the end of the first lap – was I.. could I be… enjoying this?
Got into shore and tried to stand, failed, and tried again – woohoo sand, can I run, nah, just walk – empty the goggs, remember that I was almost popping with wee, any fan club, can’t see anything, which way to the sea, ahh remembered to wee..
Second lap was more of the same, the field must have been thinning, but it didn’t feel like it, any open water tho was amazing, I was really enjoying the swimming, until I got to the second buoy again – you can tell you are getting near as you start tasting diesel in the water, sea water is bad enough, but diesel as well, no thanks, unfortunately as I closed in on the final turn for some reason the water started to leak into my goggs, and effectively blinded me. It hurt, and I couldn’t see anything other that some shapes near me, the visibility in and out of the water was about the same, and my eyes were stinging, it felt like I was zig-zagging all over the place. But the orange splodge was getting closer and then I was out. I was also very drunk, or so it seemed, I was so wobbly. I spotted the support crew, then I was up the zig zag to find my bag.
Tears streaming I got one arm out of the wetsuit and re-atatched my watch – stopping the activity I saw it was 1hr 17 – amazing, far faster than I had expected, a fine start to the day. I got some water into my eyes and stuck my shoes on, walked up the ramp and started the 1Km jog to the transition.
The Cycle.
Loads and loads of people shouting and cheering along the route, it was all a bit of a blur – no idea how long the run took, but before long I was along side my peg, and with no space to sit I took my blue bag and disgorged myself from the wetsuit. Luckily I had used body glide in the morning, so the suit came off quite well, I was a little dizzy, but managed to change into the right things, stuck my swim stuff into the bag and meandered out for another wee and to find my bike.
On the bike, started the GPS, and away I went for the 112 cycle…
There was a fair wind coming from the West, as I headed out of Tenby and turned left into it. I was feeling good though, pedaling was easy and I overtook a few people as we left Tenby and settled into a rhythm. The rules state no drafting, but with so many people around it was impossible, the run out to Pembroke was pretty good, I had plenty of drink, and one of the thins. First real hill was out of Pembroke and all was fine with the world.
Angle was the first feed stop, I made sure I stopped at all of them and took two bottles of water, and waved farewell to my old bottle, one high5 in one bottle and away we go…
Even though the route back should have been with the wind, it wasn’t quite – but all in all the cycle was monotonous, and grinding. I slowed through Sageston where I knew the supporters were, and feeling sorry for them, having to wait around for me to spend about 10 seconds passing them, I turned right through Carew and up the seemingly never ending but only 5 miles of hills towards Templeton.
I think somewhere around here I heard someone say that it was about half way, and I was feeling okay as I headed up the big hill towards Narberth, only once more around this and I’d be done I thought ;o)
Down the otherside and a pretty nice drop to the bottom of Narberth, when at about 35 miles an hour I lost my sight.
My eyes had been quite sore after the swim, but with the wind in them they just shut, and I had a real struggle trying to open them. Tears streaming I had to pull on the anchors and was weaving around, which must have been a nightmare for anyone trying to pass me, not that I could see them. This was something that continued to affect me on almost every slope, a little dangerous and the last thing I wanted to do was to crash out!!!
The hill out of Wisemans Bridge is the “biggy”, badged at 16%, it’s a bit of a killer. It’s not that long, but long enough – luckily for me, I have many hills like that on my training rides, so although not easy it was fine and dandy, passed a load of merry nuns at the top, and it was almost time for heartbreak hill
The most famous spot in Wales Ironman is Heartbreak Hill, coming out of Saundersfoot – it has some fantastic crowds. The start is barriered, so lots of shouting, but as you climb the never ending hill the closer you get to the top the closer the support gets, until they are right along side you – it must have been about one by now, and they were in full spirits, fancy dress and beer and loads of “banter” it really is quite an experience. Once at the top its “downhill” all the way back to Tenby and the second lap.
Back into the wind, and I must admit a little drafting was unavoidable, knowing you had to do all that again, and you start to begin to consider that fact that the pains in your knees are starting and you still have that crazy run at the end. Back through Sageston and the team were in high spirits, so great to see them flash by, up the grind, and finally back on the last leg. Second time up Wisemans Bridge saw some people walking – not me man, support terrific up there and the nuns were still at the top – slightly worse for wear. Then the final hill , the final push up through the still many crowds up and out of Saunderfoot and then down to Tenby and the final push.
Rushing into Tenby and I spotted my team again, at the bottom of, and half way up the hill I had forgotten about and hated with a passion. Just a small cycle though the town, passing all the runners already on the course, and into transition.
I stopped the gps – 7:30, exactly as I had hoped, I couldn’t believe it – two down, one to go!
The Run.
No time to think, into transition, drop off the bike, crowded again, got my red bag #1946. Found a spot to change and felt like I stayed there for half an our, when it was only 12 minutes and I was out on the feet.
This is when it really hit me, the fact that there was a 2.4 mile swim and a 112 mile cycle in the bag – both the furthest I had ever done in one go, and now I had to do a 26 mile run, just 26 miles, and that’s it done, ..just 26 miles… OMG.
I have finished a marathon before, and I did two and a half in one go once, which nearly crippled me, and I had only run 18 miles in training, and that was with no other run or swim – but here it is, only five hours to go…
Haha, when I type that, it seems amazing, yeah man nearly finished, only FIVE hours left to keep going – that is completely bonkers! And after two miles, which saw me half way up the big hill I just couldn’t see how my body could continue.
This is where training, and your bonce come into their own – you can’t do it, but you sort of know you will – it gives me goosebumps now, thinking about it, that certainty that you will make it, you will keep going, you will push and push until you make that finish line.
That run is a bastard.
There is just so much up, its up out of Tenby, its up in the flat bit, it’s up towards the first turn around, it’s up to the second turn around, it’s up before the long down, it’s up in Tenby itself, then you have to do it all over again.
I ran the first lap, just stopping at each feed station (of which there were loads – five each lap) and saw the gang at a turn around point, which meant I saw them three times each lap, and in my head I thought, “Second time around I’ll just walk the big hill”, that was my next challenge, run until the big hill again.
Second time around, walk hill, run the rest – in my head “Next time around I’ll walk the hill, then the other smaller hill to the turn around, and the small hill before the next one”, just keep moving.
As I came down the hill the second time, nearly at half marathon distance all I though was, one more lap around, then I’ll be on the last one, and that will be it! Haha, what a thought.
Third time around was getting really hard, my back was killing more than anything else, I had some ‘brufen, but it was still bad, but at this point everything sort of blurs together, it’s just a lot of pain and I was so fortunate that it wasn’t impacting my moving forward. When I did the 100K run, I physically couldn’t run for the last 5K or so, it was impossible – here I could, and I relished it. Last time around… before the final lap!
I got to the final lap, you pass the finish on each lap, which is which is sooo mean, but I was okay, time was of no concern at this point, just get to the bottom of the hill, then the top, then onto the downwards and that’ll be it.
Running down the big hill, the thrill, even at this point is incredible, people are still running up, they have at least one, if not two laps left to go, but you are on the last 2 miles, you are going to make it.
Running through Tenby for the last time, was slow, but the cheers and drunken shouts of support are magical – you are knackered, you hurt, you are both thirsty and hungry and not – all at the same time, and you know that this time, this time around you are not turning right, you are going straight on, straight on through the cordon of people and through the pain and through all the early mornings and through all the hours of slog and through finally to the end – the smile is massive, I couldn’t help but fist pump and skip and raise my arms and smile and smile and smile – and at the end of it all, all of the training and effort and 14hrs and 43 minutes of a Sunday in September, you realise it all – and it is so simply summed up by the loudspeaker shouting:
“Andrew, you are an Ironman!”